


Witches, Bitches, and Pulling Out Stitches

by darknessfactor



Series: The Void Under Our Skin [1]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Delilah's coven, F/F, Gen, Low to Medium Chaos Emily Kaldwin, Mystery, Post-Dishonored 2 (Video Game), Royal Protector Billie, Royal Spymaster Corvo, Some angst, Takes place six months after DH2, Witches are more nuanced than you make them out to be Arkane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-11-16 16:03:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11256309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darknessfactor/pseuds/darknessfactor
Summary: The problem with Emily before the coup was that she’d wanted it to be easy, and couldn’t accept that if it wasn’t hard, then she likely wasn’t doing it right.In which Emily Kaldwin appoints a new Royal Protector, creates a city council, and stumbles upon a civil war.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> So after I wrote Respawn, I had this thought that that would be enough to slake my need to write Dishonored fanfiction. Clearly, I was incorrect about this, because not only have I written more, I've written more WITH ACTUAL PLOT.
> 
> As far as the pairing goes... don't ask. Seriously. I literally have no idea why this pairing stuck with me - all I did was mention it in passing in Respawn, and suddenly it wouldn't leave me alone. Originally this was intended to be a oneshot focused on them, but it turned into a plotty fic that mashed up that pairing with my bitterness towards Arkane for making it seem like witches are universally evil (no, that one witch in the red jacket DOESN'T COUNT, Arkane). 
> 
> Anyway, this is set about six months after the end of DH2. It's got quite a few OCs in it, but I tried not to put the spotlight on any of them too much, even though I quickly found myself loving a lot of them. Honestly, the thing I'm most proud of is the title. Not sure how I feel about the story itself, except that I loved writing it.
> 
> The story is finished; some of the later chapters need heavy editing, but other than that it's done. I'll probably be posting every other day or so. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

It was a rare day that the sun dared to peek out from behind the clouds in Dunwall.  Upon awakening to find the light streaming in through her window, Emily had resolved to spend as much of the day as possible outdoors - perhaps taking her morning tea out on the terrace, where she could feel the warmth on her face.

Instead, she spent the first three hours of the day in the (windowless) war room, working with her father and Elise Murrow, the Captain of the City Watch.  The long table, surrounded by 12 high-backed chairs, was mostly empty, save for three seats near the head of it.  Emily sat at the head, as was expected of her.  Her father was at her right, while Captain Murrow sat to her left.

“Slaughterhouse Row needs to be our priority,” Murrow said, gesturing towards the area on the map.  “If the demonstrations escalate there, then the damage could be a lot more significant than a few stones through windows.”

Emily bit her lip, ignoring the sweat beading on her forehead.  Her overcoat was not suited for the warmth of the day.

“With all due respect, Captain Murrow,” her father replied, “the presence of the City Watch in the area would be seen as a threat.  The people would think that the City Watch is there to stop the protest.  My reports are saying that it’s peaceful - “

“For how long?” Murrow demanded.

Emily saw Billie shift in place where she stood in the corner of the room, silently watching the proceedings.  Like her father, her arms were folded, and she leaned against the wall in a position of apparent repose.  A lie, but one that most were unable to see through; Emily, on the other hand, had had months now to adjust to her Royal Protector’s habits.

Billie’s eyes were fixed on the map.  She didn’t make eye contact with Emily, but one of her hands twitched where it gripped her bicep.

Emily cleared her throat, causing Murrow and her father to fall silent almost immediately, their expectant gazes falling on her.  “I believe my Lady Protector has something to contribute to the discussion, Spymaster Attano, Captain Murrow.”

Billie strode forward until she stood at Emily’s elbow, falling into a parade rest.  Emily swallowed down a laugh, as she often did when Billie followed protocol.  It never suited her all that well.

“Spymaster Attano is right, to an extent,” Billie said, her voice slow and measured.  “There are a lot of noisemakers in Slaughterhouse Row, but the real problems we’ve been having don’t seem to originate from there.  They’re just marching on behalf of the candidates running from the district.  It’s a far cry from the strike that happened last month.”

“That strike was still related to the elections,” Emily felt compelled to point out.  

One corner of Billie’s mouth quirked up.  “Yes, but tensions are running high  _ everywhere  _ right now, because unlike last month, the elections are happening tomorrow.  Best not to cause problems where they don’t exist.”

Elise Murrow straightened her back, folding her hands on the table in front of her.  Though she was loyal to the Crown to a fault, she had never been one to budge from a position, and her appearance reflected that trait: everything from her strong jaw to her carefully cropped hair all pointed to someone who was very much set in her ways.

Her lips pursed.  “I’m not sure how you’re so privy to the reports that come in, Lady Foster - “

“I pay attention,” Billie deadpanned.

“Lady Foster has my full confidence, Captain Murrow,” Emily cut in quickly, catching the warning look that her father was shooting towards Billie.  “If both she and Spymaster Attano recommend that we keep the City Watch away from Slaughterhouse Row, then I’ll happily follow their recommendation.  Now, what were the other areas of interest?”

As it turned out, nearly every district in Dunwall was reporting some kind of civil unrest in the light of the elections.  Because her father was the one who had eyes and ears throughout the city, he was the one who pointed out where the efforts of the City Watch were needed.  He did, however, defer to Captain Murrow when she suggested increasing the City Watch presence in the Draper’s Ward, on account of the gang activity that had been on the rise there in the last month leading up to the elections.

Billie remained silent throughout the rest of the meeting, but she did not move from her position at Emily’s side.  At one point, when the discussion turned to the Tailor’s District (the district where the women who had joined Delilah out of desperation and protection and who had no real loyalty towards her were relocated after the coup came to an end), Emily caught her eye and saw the tension in her.

The meeting came to an end, and Emily stood from her chair with a wince.  Billie preceded her out of the room, waiting as she, Captain Murrow, and her father exited before she took up her place a step behind Emily and to her right.  

Emily’s mind was already on the line of petitioners who were likely to be awaiting her, and her body went on autopilot, turning in the direction of the throne room even as her father and Captain Murrow continued down the hall, speaking in low voices.  She made it two steps before a firm hand caught her elbow, grinding her to a halt.

“Uh-uh,” Billie murmured quietly in her ear - likely far closer than she needed to be.  “Food first.  Petitioners later.”

On cue, Emily’s stomach gave a rousing rumble.  She laughed, turning into Billie’s hold, unsurprised to find her face just inches away from Billie’s.  “As long as you’re joining me.”

Billie blinked, as though she didn’t expect their proximity, and slid her hand off of Emily’s elbow, though she didn’t make any effort to put space between them.  Instead, she gestured to their left, down the hallway that led to the direction of the Royal Quarters.  “After you, your majesty.”

Emily lingered for just a second longer before she started walking in the direction Billie had indicated, her hands clasped behind her back.  She liked to think that she heard Billie let out a long breath after she’d turned away.

She detoured from her usual path to the Royal Quarters, stopping Eleanor, one of the cleaning staff, to ask her if she could send word to the kitchens that the Empress and the Lady Protector would be taking lunch out on the terrace instead of in her quarters that day.  She was greeted by the sun as they left the dreariness of the palace, something that she’d become used to in Karnaca and sorely missed once she returned to Dunwall.

The table where she often took her morning tea when the weather was fair was unoccupied.  Emily was quick to remove her overcoat, laying it on the back of one of the spindly white chairs, taking a moment to breath in the salty air.  Billie dropped into the chair opposite hers unceremoniously, not bothering to remove her own coat, though Emily thought she must’ve been boiling in it.

Emily considered removing the tailored vest she wore under her jacket, but chose to keep it on.  If Billie could look completely unfazed by the heat, then she could too.  

She sat down in her own chair, a wave of exhaustion already overcoming her as the morning meeting caught up to her.  “I can’t wait until these damn elections are over.”

Billie looked amused.  “So that you can go back to fighting the noble families who want their taxes lowered?”

“Well, no.”  Emily leaned back in her chair until her head was hanging upside down, giving her an inverted view of the rest of the palace grounds.  “But it’ll be nice to not have to worry about keeping someone from lighting a match while Dunwall’s such a powder keg.”

“Nice metaphor.”

“Thanks.”

“You know, this was  _ your  _ idea.”

Emily raised her head to scowl at Billie.  “I’m aware of that.”

Billie raised her hands in a gesture of surrender.  “Credit where credit’s due, Emily.  I still think it’s a good one.  Who knows - maybe things will be calmer in two years, during the next election cycle.”

If there was one thing that Emily had learned in her sixteen years of being Empress, it was that Dunwall was never truly ‘calm’.  But she was currently riding on the hope that she’d be able to improve upon the election process so that it went more smoothly than it was this time.  

The idea for the Dunwall City Council had been one that bounced around in Emily’s head for several weeks after she took the throne back from Delilah.  Dunwall had been important to her - would always be important to her - but her experiences in Karnaca had forced her to face the reality that all of the Empire needed her attention, not just the city of her birth.  

And so, she had announced her plan to allow each district to elect a representative, and that these representatives would meet each week and would have the authority to bring ideas for laws before her (ones that they would have to agree on).  It would take some of the pressure off of her, leaving her to focus on the Isles as a whole rather than prioritizing Dunwall over everywhere else.

Emily just hoped that this plan (which had not been well-received by Dunwall’s elite) was carried out smoothly.

Lunch was brought out by Bartholomew, who placed a pot of vegetable stew in front of them, along with two sets of plates and cutlery.  He bowed to Emily, who smiled in return, before he hurried back into the palace.

“Still no whale meat?” Billie queried.

Emily shook her head.  She didn’t know how to explain her recent discomfort around eating whales.  While she could appreciate that whaling was essential to Dunwall’s economy, their songs in the slaughterhouses hit her in a way that they didn’t used to.  She suspected that the Outsider had something to do with that, and wondered if the other Marked had the same aversion.

Now that she thought about it, her father also tended to avoid it when it was served during formal dinners.

“Careful, your majesty,” Billie said.  “The Overseers might start to think you’re a heretic.”

Emily snorted, flexing her left hand and raising an eyebrow.  “I don’t know  _ what  _ you’re implying, Lady Foster.”  Never mind the bone charms that she’d sewn into her overcoat, or the shrine she kept in her safe room.  Never mind the black pattern etched into the back of her hand, which still burned at odd moments of the day.  

She served herself some of the stew, and lifted a spoonful to her mouth.  She didn’t hear the telltale twang of a crossbow bolt being released in her direction, aimed at her right eye.  

Billie did.

The next thing Emily knew, she’d been toppled out of her chair, with Billie’s weight pressing down on her.  She could hear Billie’s harsh breaths in her ear, could feel Billie’s pulse beat almost in time with her own, even though she couldn’t see Billie’s face.  They both remained there for a long moment, waiting for another crossbow bolt.

Then they both burst into motion.  

Billie was first up, sprinting in the direction that the crossbow bolt had come from.  Emily hurried after her, her footsteps pounding along as she activated her Vision.  Most of the orange silhouettes she could see were palace staff and guards, but then she spotted the would-be assassin: a loner, hurrying towards the edge of the cliff near the waterlock.  

“Cliffside, right of the waterlock,” she gasped out to Billie, who changed direction without having to be told twice.  

“Sound the alarm!” Billie shouted as they passed beneath the watchtower.  A moment later, the clanging of alarm bells started to ring from the watchtower, and was soon echoed throughout the rest of Dunwall Tower.  Emily could see the assassin without her Vision now, and put on a burst of speed, vaulting over the wall that led down to the cliff’s edge.  She landed in a crouch and kept going just as the attacker threw himself off the cliff.

Emily skidded to a stop, feeling shadows gather in her palm.

“ _ Emily _ !” cried Billie.

Emily, however, had already reached out and  _ pulled _ , snagging the ankle of the man who was already a hundred or so feet beneath her.  It was easy to yank the man back up to her, where she caught him easily in a Tyvian chokehold.  He thrashed in her grasp for a moment before the lack of blood to his brain caught up to him, and he slumped.

Billie stopped next to her, a stormy expression on her face.  “What were you thinking?” she hissed.  “It’s one thing to wear gloves all the time, but  _ this  _ \- “

“We need to know who paid him,” Emily said, keeping her tone level.  

“Not at the cost of the Overseers marching in here to arrest you for heresy!”

“I was using my Vision up until then.  I knew there wasn’t anyone around to see it.”

Billie gestured at the unconscious body of the man on the ground between them.  “And what about him?  What about what  _ he  _ saw?”

Emily raised an eyebrow at her.  “Who in their right mind is going to believe anything that an assassin who tried to kill the Empress of the Isles says?”

Billie made an aborted movement, like she wanted to punch something but had nothing to punch (aside from Emily herself, who knew that Billie wouldn’t, even though she deserved it).  She let loose a string of Tyvian curses that she’d likely picked up from Sokolov, running one hand through her hair.  Emily bent down next to the assassin, pulling off the black, cloth mask on their face to reveal a young man, probably mid-twenties.  

When she looked back up at Billie, who was now standing with her back to Emily, she stared at the slowly growing red stain on Billie’s coat, and the crossbow bolt that now protruded from Billie’s left shoulder.

“ _ Shit _ , B - Meagan,” she said, jumping up and hurrying to Billie’s side.  “You should’ve let me handle this, you probably needed the physician five minutes ago - “

“I would have, if I didn’t know you have the self-preservation instinct of a - “

Emily tuned out Billie’s rant, inspecting the wound.  It wouldn’t be fatal, but the bolt had gone in deep, and she was losing blood quickly.  She quickly took off her vest, untucking her shirt and ripping off a strip at the bottom, which she wrapped around the shaft of the bolt.  She held it there, trying her best to stem the flow of blood.

There was a scuffling sound from above her, and then her father landed next to them.  His eyes darted from the crossbow bolt sticking out of Billie’s back to the unconscious man on the ground.  Emily saw him flex his left hand, like he was resisting the urge to summon a rat swarm.

“Get her to the Royal Physician,” he said.  “I’ll take care of our guest.”

Emily nodded, already leading Billie along the wall, where she would eventually be able to go around it.  Billie seemed to be walking well enough on her own,  in spite of the blood loss, and she didn’t so much as wince, in spite of the pain that Emily knew she had to be in.  

“I hope that bolt wasn’t poisoned,” Billie muttered.

“It wasn’t,” Emily said, more for herself than for Billie.  “It would’ve taken effect already.”

The end of the wall seemed too far away, and Emily kept berating herself for not noticing that Billie had been hit sooner.  More to the point, she berated herself for letting her guard down just because it was hot outside - especially on a day like today, when tensions were already high throughout the city.  There was nothing she could do about it now, however, so she focused on keeping one hand wrapped around the crossbow bolt, the fabric under her fingers soaking up blood, and keeping the other hand on Billie’s arm left arm, in case she needed to support her should she get lightheaded.

“New rule,” Billie said.  “You’re not allowed to take off your coat outside again.”

Emily laughed a little hysterically, thinking about the bonecharm sewn into it that enhanced her hearing.  She would’ve heard it the moment the crossbow had been fired - and then Billie wouldn’t have needed to take the hit for her.

Eventually they made it around the wall, and Emily handed Billie off to the guards who hurried over bearing a stretcher.  She watched as they carried her away, reminding herself that Billie had agreed to take up the position - that Emily hadn’t forced her to choose it.  That Billie knew the risks.  

She still couldn’t shake the feeling that this was her fault.

* * *

 

Emily stormed into the interrogation room at Coldridge, the door clanging shut behind her as she strode furiously towards the man who was trapped in the chair in the center of the room.  Her father was already there, angling his body to face her as she entered.  

“I hope you didn’t start without me,” she said to her father, tone frosty.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Emily stepped forward until she was only a foot away from the assassin, taking in his appearance more slowly now that she didn’t have Billie bleeding all over her.  He appeared to be even younger than she first believed, perhaps even under twenty, sporting a crooked nose and the kind of lithe build that indicated he was agile and fast.  Ideal for someone who would need to infiltrate the palace grounds as far as he had.

His face was blank, but Emily saw a flicker of fear in his eyes when she leaned closer to him.  Young, and clearly good at his... profession, but not possessing of the cavalier attitude that a more seasoned assassin might have.

Emily straightened up.  “Name?”

“Cal Norman, your majesty.”

He was even trying to be respectful.  Not that it raised Emily’s estimation of him.  “Who hired you to kill me, Cal Norman?”

He swallowed visibly.  “They... they didn’t say you’d be so... hands-on when you dealt with assassins.”

Emily wanted to laugh at his attempted deflection; instead, she lashed out with her hand, backhanding Cal across the face before he had time to blink.  She heard more than saw Corvo start, clearly not expecting the sudden show of violence, and felt mildly guilty about doing so in the same room where her father had been tortured for six months.  

Still, assassinations couldn’t be taken lightly.  Billie often accused her of not taking her own safety seriously.  She wasn’t wrong, and that needed to start changing.  She wasn’t on the run in Karnaca anymore; life as the Empress of the Isles presented its own, more insidious set of dangers.

Stonily she said, “Answer the question.”

Cal had blinked a few times after being hit, and he seemed to answer out of shock more than anything else.  “I - I don’t... know.  I got an anonymous request.  I have a, uh, drop point where I pick up job offers.  Didn’t recognize the hand as one of my usual clients.”

“Do you still have the letter?”

He shook his head.  “I burn all my offers after I read them.”

Emily smiled coldly.  “And why, pray tell, did you think it was a good idea to come after  _ me _ ?”

“They offered me two thousand coin.”

The amount rendered Emily speechless.  She couldn’t help glancing at her father, who was staring at Cal in a similar state of disbelief.  She turned back to Cal, who was eyeing her nervously.  

“And you thought this person would deliver on that offer?” she asked.

“They did deliver.”  He swallowed again.  “I got the amount at the drop-off point after I left a return correspondence saying I would.  Believe me, it was tempting to just... leave with the money, but it’s the principle of the thing, you know?”

“The principle,” Emily repeated.  Cal seemed to remember who he was talking to and paled.

“I didn’t mean nothing by it, your majesty.  I swear!  Should’ve taken the rumors about your...  _ work  _ in Karnaca seriously, I see that now.  I guess they really didn’t exaggerate any of that, huh?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Emily said blandly.  Well, she did, but she wasn’t about to admit it.  People had yet to prove that the deaths of Kirin Jindosh, Breanna Ashworth, and Luca Abele were her doing, and as far as she was concerned it was going to stay that way.

“Please don’t kill me!” the assassin finally burst out with.  “I-I’ll turn over all the coin I’ve ever made, I’ll work for you instead, o-or I could just stay in prison for the rest of my life, it doesn’t seem so bad here - “

Emily held up a hand.  He stopped speaking.  

It was true that he was practically still a kid.  Good with a crossbow and good at sneaking around, but a kid all the same.  She also knew, however, that he had enough of a skewed moral compass that he wasn’t bothered by killing for money, and whoever had hired him believed he was good enough to take down Emily Kaldwin.  Which meant that he would be useful, though she wasn’t about to send him on any jobs anytime soon.

“We’ll take information,” she said.  “And the coin.  I want a complete list of all your targets, as well as the location of the drop-off point where people leave you requests and where you answer them.  I want the names of anyone that you know has contacted you for a job, and the names of people you might have worked with for a job.  Anything and everything you can give us.   _ If  _ you deliver, I will take your request for you life into consideration.”

He was already nodding frantically before she was even halfway through her speech.  When she finished, he started babbling what sounded like affirmations that he would cooperate with them.  She exchanged glances with Corvo again, jerking her head towards the door, where they would be able to speak without being overheard by their guest.

“I’ll start asking him about his targets,” her father said gruffly.  “The kid doesn’t seem like the next Knife of Dunwall, but you never know.  Could be he’s putting on an act to save his own skin.”

“Would it matter if he was?” Emily pointed out, suppressing the urge to flinch at the mention of Daud.  “He’d still be giving us the exact same information.”

Her father’s mouth twisted.  “He might omit some names.”

“I don’t think so,” she said.  “The boy is skilled at killing, not lying.”

She waited a beat to see if her father would disagree with her.  When he remained silent, she continued.  “When he gives us the location of the drop-off point, I’m going to go investigate it myself.”

“Absolutely not,” her father argued, but Emily had been expecting this.

“I want to see if anyone tries to use it,” she continued.  “I might be able to find out more about the person who tried to kill me.”

“Emily - “

“How many times have we established that I can take care of myself?” she demanded.  “Besides, I have no intention of going alone.”

“Meagan is still recovering,” he pointed out.

The mention of Billie has Emily’s innards twisting up again - in her focused rage, she’d forgotten about Billie’s injury.  Even so, she knew that the shoulder would heal with unnatural speed, thanks to the bone charms that Billie kept with her at all times.  Emily had once questioned Billie’s reasoning for each of the ones she carefully sewed into her Royal Protector regalia, and Billie had responded that she wouldn’t be much of a Royal Protector if she was too injured to do any protecting.

“She won’t be for long,” Emily said, hoping that her father would hear the hidden meaning in her words.  She drew herself up to full height, into what Billie referred to as her ‘Empress’ pose, and he let out a sigh.

“Fine,” he grumbled.  “But I don’t like it.”

“Meagan saved my life today.”  Emily paused, then added more lightly, “And she doesn’t slouch in court as much anymore.  You can trust her with my safety, Father.”

“I know.”  He nudged her a bit.  “I’ll handle Cal.  I think you’ve got some petitioners to address.”

“Ah, yes,” Emily said dryly.  “The highlight of my day.”

Her father rolled his eyes, but sent her a wink, and Emily smiled back.  Her intestines ceased their knotting up.  For now.

* * *

 

Dinner was a subdued affair.  Emily, exhausted from the day’s events, took her dinner in her quarters, unable to shake the feeling that it was too quiet.  She had grown accustomed to having Billie at her side in recent months, and being alone in her chambers put her on edge.

She finished eating and dismissed Helena, her attendant, for the evening.  She then rose from her seat, heading over to her safe room and unlocking it with her signet ring.  The interior had been somewhat remodeled after Mortimer Ramsay’s occupancy, and she found herself put-off by it, hence why she tended to not spend time in it anymore.  She plucked her kerchief off the table next to the bed she used to use, and then sealed the safe room off again and left her chambers, heading for the Royal Physician’s wing.

In Dunwall Tower, the Royal Physician’s wing was located on the second floor of the palace, in the north wing.  Upon entering the wing, Emily heading for the door to her left, which led to the infirmary where Dr. Toksvig’s patients recuperated.  Three beds lined each wall, and only the one furthest from the door was occupied.

Toksvig had once been calmer, and less strict, but she was one of the few of Emily’s staff to survive Delilah.  The result had been that the Royal Physician was constantly glancing over her shoulder, looking for something that wasn’t there.  Though she was still the best physician Emily knew outside of Dr. Hypatia, she had been changed by Delilah’s rule.

Billie sat up after Emily entered, rotating her injured shoulder and only wincing slightly; the bone charm was already working its magic (literally).  

“Did you come to rescue me?” she asked.  “I maintain that I still haven’t met anyone as terrifying as Dr. Toksvig.”

Emily chuckled, having been under Toksvig’s care twice in the past and not being eager to repeat the experience.  The doctor knew her trade and had Emily’s full confidence, but she also had a sharp tongue and the ability to make Emily feel like she’d just been doused in cold water.  

“You could say that,” she answered.  “We’re staking out the drop-off point where the assassin received his offers.  You up for it?”

Billie was already out of bed and on her feet, rolling her head from side to side to work the kinks out of her neck.  “Shoulder’s sore, but it’s not gonna start bleeding if I put some strain on it.  I’m good.”

“Let’s go, then.”

Emily used her Vision to ensure that they encountered no one on their way back to the Royal Chambers.  Once there, she tied her kerchief around her face and opened the window, climbing out onto the ledge.  Billie followed suit, the two of them taking the well-worn path that would lead to the roof of the kitchens.  From there, they would be able to make their way into the city proper.

The gap from the roof of the kitchens to the apartment building across the street was far too wide for Emily to simply jump; she used to have to climb down and then climb back up if she wanted to stay on the rooftops.  Not so now, as she held her hand out in front of her and gave Billie an expectant look.

Billie eyed her apprehensively before she stepped into Emily’s side, wrapping her arm around Emily’s waist even as Emily wrapped her own arm around Billie’s.  She took a moment to relish in the warmth that Billie always seemed to radiate, but in the next second, she grabbed onto the roof across the street and pulled.

The rush of air and the sudden displacement was nothing to Emily, but Billie grimaced and leaned even more heavily into Emily’s side.  Emily caught Billie with her other arm before she could faceplant onto the roof tiles below them.

“I really hate that,” she mumbled.  

Emily studied Billie’s face as her friend recovered, waiting until the tension she could see there relaxed and she didn’t look like she was about to throw up all over Emily’s boots.  “You good?” she asked.

“Mm.”  Considering how close they were standing, that one noise went straight through Emily.  “Yeah, I’m good.”

Emily released her, breaking into a jog, keeping her steps light as she traversed the roofs.  She didn’t use Far Reach again as they made their way through the city, cognizant of her companion’s inability to do the same thing.  Fortunately, the rooftops were close enough that they were able to make it most of the way to their destination without resorting to Far Reach.  The only exception was when they had to cross a particularly wide avenue.  Billie recovered more quickly this time, and they were on their way again only seconds later.

The drop-off point was in the Rudshore Financial District.  The irony was not lost on Emily, and she’d gotten a raised eyebrow from Billie when she told her what their destination was.  It was a mailbox in front of an old, abandoned apartment - one that had a secret compartment hidden inside.  Only the people who wanted to hire Cal (and Cal himself) knew about its existence; he’d apparently let rumors about his operations trickle through Dunwall’s society and got offers from the people who were smart enough to figure it out.  A reputable sniper was useful to many people in a city like Dunwall.

The drop-off point was far from the whale oil refinery where the former Knife of Dunwall (and Billie herself) used to live, so Emily was fairly sure that Cal didn’t have any connection to the Whalers.  Still, his skill was considerable, and given time he could have become a much more significant threat.

The apartment complex that Cal had described was even more run-down than Emily expected.  Apparently the rebuilding efforts had never reached this area.  She was unsurprised to see warm, yellow light from some of the windows, however.

“Perfect place for squatters,” Billie said.  “The kid’s lucky no one found his little stash.  It’s not really the place where people of high society go, though, even if they are hiring an assassin.  Even if we do see someone tonight, they’ll probably be a proxy.”

“Yeah,” Emily said, her eyes already fixed on the mailbox that stuck out like a sore thumb in front of the building.  “But the proxy is much more likely to know the person pulling the strings than Cal Norman is.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

They settled into more comfortable positions, both aware that they were in for a long night.  Emily pulled out her spyglass and used it to periodically check up and down the street, to see if anyone was approaching.  They occasionally saw a City Watchman on patrol or a drunkard passing underneath, but besides that all was quiet.

Emily was lying on her stomach, resting her chin on her hands when she wasn’t using her spyglass.  Billie sat cross-legged beside her, somehow managing to keep completely still even though nothing was happening.  The feeling of her innards turning into snakes returned as they observed the mailbox in silence.

In a quiet voice, Emily said, “I’m sorry about today.”

“I was doing my job.”

“I know,” Emily replied.  “That’s not what I meant.  You... keep telling me that I’m too careless with my own safety, and you’re right.  I’m sorry that it took an actual assassination attempt and you getting hurt for me to realize that.”

Billie let out a barely audible sigh.  “Yeah, you’re kind of an idiot when it comes to your health in general.  I keep having to remind you to eat.  But today was... I don’t know.  I still would’ve jumped in front of you, even if you had heard the bolt coming.  More care taken on your part would be appreciated, though.  Give me less heart attacks.”

Emily rolled onto her side so that she was facing Billie, but still kept one eye on the street below.  “Heart attacks, huh?  Why Billie, I didn’t know I had that kind of effect on you.”

“Liar,” Billie mumbled.  Emily was delighted to see her eyes flicker along her body, before they returned to watching the mailbox.

Emily rolled back onto her stomach, not bothering to try to hide her smirk.

They spent an hour watching the mailbox.  Emily eventually switched from lying on her stomach to sitting cross-legged as well, her right knee touching Billie’s left.  She hummed a rendition of the Drunken Whaler and was pleasantly surprised when Billie joined in.

Finally, just as exhaustion was starting to set in, movement caught Emily’s eye.  She activated her Vision almost at once, watching as the orange silhouette made its way over to the mailbox.  Whoever they were, they wore a cloak and a hood over their short, squat form - not the most inconspicuous of disguises.  When they turned, glancing up and down the street to check if anyone was watching, Emily caught a glimpse of their profile.

“It’s a woman,” she murmured to Billie, who had gone completely still next to her.  “Let’s wait and see where she goes.”

Billie nodded.

The woman appeared to rummage around in the mailbox for a few minutes before she pulled something out of it.  She glanced around again, her head movements jerky, before she started down the street at a quick pace.

Emily rose from her spot, wincing as her legs protested.  “And off we go,” she murmured, moving silently along the roof with Billie in her wake.


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Here's part two - I hope that you like it!

The mystery woman kept to side streets and back alleys, avoiding the wider avenues and open squares.  She clearly knew where she was going, as her movements in general led southwest, until they were leaving the Rudshore Financial District and the near-silent streets behind.

Emily tensed as the architecture of the buildings changed subtly, from the ornate structures of the Financial District to the smaller, more quaint shops that made up the Tailors’ District.  She tried to ignore the sensation of a stone sinking down into her stomach, concentrating instead on getting her and Billie to the next roof with Far Reach.  

The woman’s pace became more relaxed, slowing from the trot she’d been using to navigate her way through the Financial District.  She still kept one arm tucked beneath her cloak, evidently clinging to whatever it was she had retrieved from the drop-off point.  She showed no suspicion that she was being followed, but Emily’s new hunch didn’t allow her to relax.  If the woman paused even for a second, Emily would sink down into a cluster of shadows, and Billie would flatten herself down beside her.

Not for the first time, Emily wished that she still had the Heart, if only so that she could gain insight into this woman.

Their quarry turned down a narrow street, at the end of which stood a ramshackle building with the front door ajar.  In spite of the shop’s dilapidated appearance, warm light spilled through the doorway, and the closer Emily got the louder a gaggle of voices became.  She activated her vision, and was able to make out five silhouettes seated in a circle on the first floor.

It was that building that the woman hurried to, slipping quickly through the front door.  Emily heard exclamations from the occupants, followed by shushing, which meant that these people were at the very least cautious enough that they were unwilling to be overheard.

There was no one on the second floor, so she signalled to Billie to wait on the roof and pulled herself down onto the window ledge below her before slipping inside.  

She landed on her toes in what appeared to be a makeshift bedroom, crammed with three mattresses that barely fit when squeezed in side-by-side.  In spite of how crowded it was, the room seemed to be relatively clean, with the blankets from each mattress folded neatly and placed at the ends of the beds.  The only other thing present in the room was a desk in the corner to Emily’s right, which was littered with scraps of paper and - she moved a bit closer to make sure - bone charms.

She crept over to the desk, brushing her fingers along the charms and feeling their warmth.  Not corrupted then, and they seemed to be recently carved, so whoever had crafted them obviously had some skill in the trade.  

Emily moved towards the door, activating her Vision again to make sure that one of the people on the level below hadn’t come upstairs.  None of them appeared to have moved, and the woman she and Billie had been tracking appeared to have joined the circle.  She could hear little besides indistinct chatter, and she set out to correct that.

She crept out onto the landing, settling into a crouch at the top of the stairs, and was finally able to make out what was being said on the first floor.

“...problem with getting it out of there?  You were so sure that the reason she’s gone is because she left a request there, but it’s obviously untouched.  Unless it’s actually his response?”

“No.”  That voice was young, that of a girl.  “No, he... he doesn’t send the original requests back.  He just leaves responses to the messages addressed to the code name the requester gives him.  I don’t know what he does with the original requests.”

“Maybe we ought to open it,” came a third voice, a man’s.  “Might give us a clue what in the hell Sevrina was thinking.”

“Probably got offed by the Abbey.”

“Della!”  The young girl’s voice again, sounding stricken.  “She’s... Sevrina always followed all the rules, you know that she wouldn’t - she isn’t stupid enough to attract their attention.”

A quieter, more musical voice said, “Sometimes the rules aren’t enough, Talsin.”

“The hell with it, then,” Talsin said.  “I’ll look for her again tomorrow.  And yes, I think we should read this.  Darren’s right in that it might be a clue.”

Nothing any of them were saying seemed to have anything to do with the attempt on Emily’s life earlier that day.  The name Sevrina sounded familiar, however, and she wracked her brains to try and figure out where she’d heard it before.  

She needed to know more, and she wasn’t going to get it by just eavesdropping on them.

Emily hurried back out the way she came, using Far Reach to pull herself down to the street, waving up at Billie’s silhouette.  Billie climbed down the side of the building a moment later, dusting off her jacket she made her way over to Emily.

“Anything interesting?” she asked.

“Maybe,” Emily replied, frowning slightly.  Her Vision told her that they were all still on the first floor.  “I need to talk to them.”

“You sure that’s wise?”

“I don’t think they’re threats.  The one we were following isn’t much more than a girl, and she seems to be worried about a missing friend of hers.”

“Sounds ominous.”  Emily snorted, and Billie shrugged.  “So, will you be addressing them as Empress Emily Kaldwin, or just Emily?”

Emily thought about it for a minute, then let out a sigh and pull her kerchief away from her face.  Billie only hesitated for a moment before she pulled off her hood, revealing a face that had become almost as recognizable as Emily’s own in recent months.  Billie’s appointment to the position Royal Protector caused quite the stir among the populace.

They made their way to the door, not bothering to hide their footsteps this time.  Emily paused in the entryway to rap her knuckles against the rotting wood.  She could see the staircase she’d been hiding on in front of her, but the room where everyone was gathered was hidden from sight.

There was a shuffling noise, and a small, portly man appeared in the hall.  “Bit late for the riff raff, isn’t - “

He stopped.  It might have been more accurate to say that he choked himself into silence upon seeing who was standing in the doorway to the building.  Emily guessed that this was Darren; his voice matched up with the one she’d heard speaking a few minutes before.  

“Y-your majesty,” he stammered, bowing low.  “I - this is unexpected, I’ll admit.  How can I help you?”

Emily lifted her chin.  “I have questions.  I believe that you and your housemates have the answers I’m looking for.”

“I - I don’t know what we’ve done to merit the attention of the Crown, your majesty, but I can assure you that we - “

“Oh relax,” Billie said, stepping up next to Emily.  “We’re not looking to hurt anyone.  We’re not even officially here.  Right now we’re just two people trying to solve a mystery.”

Her words didn’t seem to reassure Darren.  His gray eyes darted between the two of them, before he finally gestured for them to follow him into the main room, which was to the left of the hallway where they currently stood.  

As Emily had suspected, the others were all women, and they were seated in a motley assortment of chairs in a circle (one was a squishy-looking armchair, while another was a rickety wooden rocking chair).  A fireplace was set into the far well, with a cheerfully crackling fire in the grate.  A door off to the right led to the back of the house, and Emily glimpsed a kitchen through it.

She turned her assessment to the people themselves.  

The group was as motley a collection as the chairs.  Darren settled onto the only vacant seat - a simple wooden stool.  His clothes, however, were of fine make, and Emily guessed that he was from a well-to-do family.  On one side of him, a middle-aged woman with silver hair in a braid and crows feet around her eyes studied Emily with equal intensity, while on the other side, the girl that Emily guessed was Talsin fidgeted with her skirt, her dark hair and skin marking her as Serkonan.  Of the other three women in the room, two were close enough in age and appearance that Emily guessed they were sisters, and the last was a severe-looking woman wearing trousers, a tailored jacket, and cropped hair.

One of two sisters (if Emily had to guess, she’d say she was in her late twenties) squinted at her.  “Bit late for you to be wandering about, isn’t it your majesty?”  She and her sister both possessed the sharp, gray features that indicated a Tyvian heritage.  

Emily suppressed a smile, noting the warning look that Darren shot towards the woman.  “I think I should say the same to your young friend here,” she said, gesturing towards Talsin, who stiffened.

“Oh good,” the middle-aged woman (Della, it must’ve been) muttered.  “You were followed.”

Talsin spluttered.  “How was I supposed to know?” she finally bit out.  “I looked _everywhere_ , I swear, I didn’t see anyone!  And besides, what chance do I stand against the Empress and the Royal Protector?”

“You can start by realizing that your disguise only made you more suspicious,” Billie said.  

Talsin turned her scowl on Billie before she seemed to realize who she was talking to, and ducked her head, her ears turning red.  Emily shot Billie a reproachful look, but Billie just stared back, looking unimpressed.

“You said you had questions, your majesty?” Darren broke in.

“Yes.”  Emily crouched so that she was kneeling in front of Talsin, not wanting to make the girl any more nervous by towering over her.  “You took something from the drop-off point for an assassin known as Cal Norman.  What is it, and why did you take it?”

Talsin bit her lip, shooting a look over at the severe-looking woman across from her.  Emily didn’t turn around, keeping her eyes on Talsin.

“It was a job request,” she whispered.  “From... from our friend, Sevrina.”

Emily still couldn’t figure out where she’d heard the name before, but a sharp intake of breath from Billie had her looking up at her.  Billie had moved to lean against the wall next to the doorway to the room, and now wore a pinched frown on her face.

“I know of Sevrina,” she said.  “She’s one of the candidates up for election for this district.”

Of course.  Emily should’ve known that it would come down to the elections again.  She sighed, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose.  

Talsin had perked up.  “Yes, exactly!  She’s one of the candidates, and none of the candidates for the Tailors’ District are very popular, so... I think she stands a decent chance at winning, you know?  But um, anyway, she lives here with us and... she hasn’t come home for the past few nights.  It’s not like her.”

“We can all attest to that,” the other sister said.  “She’s very punctual.”

“And you went to get her assassination request because you thought it might have a clue as to what happened to her?” Emily asked, ignoring the way Talsin flinched at the word ‘assassination’.  

Talsin nodded.  “Yes, I thought... I thought it might help.  W-would you like to see it?”

Emily held out a hand in answer.  Talsin placed an unmarked, sealed envelope into it, and Emily noticed that her eyes traveled to the back of her left hand, like she expected to see something there.  It reminded Emily of her suspicions about this group of people, but she put that out of her mind and opened the envelope instead.

The request was written in a scratchy, barely legible hand, not something Emily expected from an aspiring politician - but then, the whole point of the elections was to get representatives who were from all walks of life.  She read the request, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach once again.

_Codename: Dull Thorn_

_Target: Jin Aseranna_

_Payment: 500 coin_

Unlike Sevrina, the name ‘Jin Aseranna’ rang no bells in Emily’s head.  She gestured for Billie to come over, and she read the missive over Emily’s shoulder before shaking her head.  

“I don’t recognize the name,” she said.  “It’s not one of the candidates.”

“So this isn’t about a political rivalry,” Emily surmised.  She looked around at the other occupants in the room.  “Do any of you know of someone named Jin Aseranna?”

She was answered by shaking heads.  Talsin’s brow was furrowed, like she was troubled by the fact that her friend was having problems with someone that she didn’t know about.  Emily smiled at her gently, remembering her own sense of betrayal when she found out about the political turmoil within Morley, and how Wyman kept quiet about it.

Darren cleared his throat.  “Sevrina isn’t really the type to put out a hit on someone.  She must’ve been desperate.”

“I’ll say,” Della muttered.  “No idea where she thinks she’s gonna get 500 coin from.”

Emily took a moment to digest their words, then waited until Talsin was willing to make eye contact with her again.  She gave the girl a reassuring smile.

“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” she assured her.  “I’m going to find your missing friend.”

Talsin blinked, looking shocked.  “But... your majesty,” she said.  “The elections are tomorrow!”

“And Sevrina doesn’t need to be physically present for them,” Emily replied.  “She only needs to be present at the swearing in ceremony a week later.  Even if she’s the victor in the elections tomorrow, we have time.”

“Okay,” Talsin said, swallowing.  “I-I mean... yes, your majesty.”

Emily heard a scraping sound from behind her, and turned to find the severe looking woman standing.  “I’d like to have a word with you in the hall, your majesty.”

“Of course.”

She followed the woman out the door, noting that the woman was even taller than she was.  Billie positioned herself at Emily’s shoulder and closed the door behind them.  When the woman saw Billie standing next to Emily she narrowed her eyes, but Billie met her glare with one that was equally threatening.

“Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it in front of Lady Foster,” Emily said calmly.

“Very well,” the woman said.  Her voice was frigid.  “My name is Ysannifer, your majesty.  I wish to address the elephant in the room, and to ask you about your intentions.”

Emily folded her arms, waiting.  

Ysannifer mirrored her pose.  “I know that you’re aware of our... leanings, your majesty.  What I’d like to know is why the Empress of the Isles would promise to help a group of traitors.”

“ _Former_ traitors,” Emily corrected, “if you were granted amnesty and allowed to relocate here.  You don’t seem intent on causing harm, and you’ve repented in the eyes of the Abbey.  Unless you’re saying I ought to have a reason to be concerned?”

“No.”  Ysannifer paused, as though collecting her thoughts.  “But our abandonment of witchcraft does not mean we abandoned heresy.  Specifically, _Sevrina_ did not abandon heresy.”

Emily thought she felt the mark on the back of her hand itch, and ignored it as best as she could.  “Awfully bold of you to be telling me this, Ysannifer.”

Ysannifer’s lips curved up into a smile before she let out a chuckle.  “We hear things, Empress.  We know the stories, of the loose definition of mercy you clung to during Delilah’s reign.”  Her eyes moved to the back of Emily’s left hand, just as Talsin’s had earlier.  “We know why you wear gloves in the middle of summer.”

Emily felt Billie tense next to her, and didn’t have to look to know that Billie was resting her hand on the hilt of her sword.  She reached back without really thinking, gripping Billie’s wrist loosely until she felt Billie relax.

“What point are you trying to make?” she asked.  Then it dawned on her.  “You think that someone knew about Sevrina’s continued heresy and was blackmailing her about it?  Perhaps this Jin Aseranna?”

“That is my theory,” Ysannifer admitted.  “Though I cannot say for certain.  I admit that this would likely be far easier if we still possessed our gifts, but the Void is lost to us.  Or, to most of us.”

“Did the Outsider Mark Sevrina?”

“No,” Ysannifer said.  “But Sevrina was always gifted at crafting bone charms, and that ability did not die with Delilah.  We’ve been using it to make something of a living out here.”

That answered the question of who was responsible for the collection of bone charms on the desk upstairs.  

“Alright,” Emily said after a moment.  “I’ll keep all of that in mind.  Your secret is safe with me, Ysannifer, so long as mine is safe with you.”

Ysannifer nodded in agreement, walking back towards the door to the main room.  She paused beside it, glancing between Emily and Billie.  They seemed to linger longer on Billie, but Emily didn’t have time to wonder about that before Ysannifer was bowing to her.  

“You don’t need to worry, your majesty,” she said.  “We take care of our own.”

It was as clear of a dismissal as they were going to get.

* * *

 

Two days after the death of Delilah Copperspoon and the restoration of Emily Kaldwin to the throne, she found herself back by the harbor in the dead of night.  

She felt a rush of relief when she saw that the _Dreadful Wale_ was still docked there.  It had been difficult to see in the darkness, and the fog from Delilah’s reign had yet to completely lift, but there was no mistaking the ship that had been Emily’s home for three months.  

Under the cover of darkness, she didn’t hesitate to use the Void to pull herself onto the deck of the ship.  Her feet hit the wooden boards with a loud thud, making the figure leaning out over the side jump, whirling to face her with a knife in hand.

Emily raised both eyebrows.  In all the time she spent with Billie, she’d never seen her raise a weapon before.  Billie seemed to realize this at the same time that Emily did, and quickly stowed the knife in a sheath that she kept on her belt, hidden beneath her white overcoat.  Emily couldn’t quite tell in the darkness, but she thought she saw relief on Billie’s face.

“I heard the announcements,” Billie said.  “But... I wasn’t sure.  I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Thanks,” Emily replied.  “I’m glad none of the witches got to you.”  She paused, trying to figure out where to start.  “Could we... head below?  There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Sure,” Billie said.  “But I have a feeling I know what it is.”

A few minutes later, they found themselves in a setting that was familiar to both: Emily and Meagan - Billie, she had to remind herself - sitting facing one another at the kitchen table, with Billie pulling out a bottle of Old Dunwall Whiskey and two tumblers.  As Emily’s hand closed around the glass Billie offered her, their fingers brushing for a brief moment, she could almost imagine that they were back in Karnaca, and that the warmth of companionship wasn’t marred by anything.

But they were no longer fugitive and ship’s captain, bound together by a mission to save the Empire.  Emily was the Empress once more, and Billie...

She took a swallow of the whiskey, grimacing at the way it burned down her throat.  “I’m glad you stuck around,” she said.

Billie studied the contents of her tumbler.  “Didn’t feel right, not seeing this all the way through.”

“Yes, but...”  Emily trailed off as Billie’s eyes flicked up to hers.  

“I could’ve left, if I really wanted to.”

Emily took that to mean that she’d _wanted_ to stay, and tentatively smiled at the thought.  She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs, and took another sip of the whiskey while she worked out what she wanted to say.  

They fell back on small talk at first, with Emily telling Billie about the clearing the foliage out of the Tower and trying to get Dunwall under some semblance of peace.  She spoke of how Coldridge’s cells were full of powerless witches, and that she had yet to figure out what to do with them all.  She also mentioned that a sizeable chunk of the royal treasury was missing, and though Delilah had been surprisingly thorough in her record-keeping, there was no accounting for it.

“Someone probably ran off with it in the chaos,” Billie suggested.

That was the conclusion Emily had come to as well.

They fell silent for a while after that.  The buzz of alcohol had settled Emily’s nerves, and she found herself finally able to say what she’d come to say.

“It’s strange,” she finally began, because it was the truth.  “When you told me about what happened with my mother, all I could think of was that you lied to me.  You lied to me, after... after everything that happened, and I couldn’t figure out why.  Well, no, I knew why, but... I don’t know.  I had trouble wrapping my head around it.”

“You were angry,” Billie said.  “As is your right.”

“Yes.”  There was no denying that - no denying the sting Emily felt, like she’d been betrayed, and hot rush of rage and humiliation.  “But in my head, I... Meagan Foster was my friend.  A trusted friend.  A confidante.  And then I started wondering whether it was just the name that was a lie.”

Billie reared back as if she’d been slapped.  “ _No_ ,” she snapped, before she visibly took a deep breath.  “No, I was glad we got to be friends, Emily.  Why do you think I was so reluctant to tell you?  I knew that that would end, as soon as I did.”

Emily thought back to that day, remembered seeing the telltale track of a tear on Billie’s cheek, and wanting to find a way to comfort her only a split-second before Billie had uttered her confession.  So it hadn’t just been Billie’s regret and guilt that caused that, then.  

Emily downed the rest of her whiskey in one gulp.  “Well, that’s the thing,” she said, placing her glass on the table.  “I still like you, Billie.  You’re one of the reasons I didn’t completely lose it in the last few months, and I still trust you.  In spite of knowing what you did.  And... there’s a big part of me that feels _guilty_ about that.”

Billie said nothing, but Emily thought she saw her make an aborted movement, like she’d wanted to reach out.

“Is it... disrespecting my mother’s memory?” Emily asked.  “To still think of you as a friend, even after what I know?  I should be angry.  I _want_ to be angry.  But then I think about evenings like this, where you were always willing to put up with me and listen to what I had to say, and you never... held that against me.  And I don’t know how to _reconcile_ that.”

“So don’t,” Billie said.  “You don’t have any obligation to me, Emily.  I can be out of your life by tomorrow.”

“That’s _not_ what I want,” Emily said.

Billie knocked back the rest of her whiskey as well, holding eye contact with Emily the entire time.  “Then what?”

Emily worried at her bottom lip with her teeth before answering.  “I feel like I should hate you, but I don’t think I could.  And I don’t want you to just... disappear from my life just because the job is done.  I don’t have a lot of people in my life that I can consider real friends - especially not after Delilah.”

Billie smirked, but it had no real humor in it.  “I _am_ a ship’s captain, you know.  Gotta make a living somehow.”

“I’m making my father step down from being the Royal Protector,” Emily blurted, before she could stop herself.  “He’s... he’s still an excellent fighter, and I know that a part of him will always want to look after me, but... he’s getting old, and I need someone who won’t have to split time between being my protector and being my spymaster.  So he’s only going to have the title of Royal Spymaster, from now on.”

Billie stared at her, disbelief on her face.  “Are you asking me to become the Royal Protector?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I trust you,” Emily said again, just in case it hadn’t sunk in for Billie the last few times she’d said it.  “And you did say you were a part of Daud’s gang, didn’t you?  Who better to protect me from assassins than another assassin?”

Billie’s eyes narrowed.  “We’re not all still in our twenties, Emily.  And I’m a little rusty.”

“If your reaction to me sneaking on board your ship earlier was any indication, you’ve still got the knack for it.”

Billie let out a long sigh, running her fingers through her hair, as she was wont to do when aggravated.  “All of that notwithstanding,” she said, “there’s a whole host of other problems.  I’m technically still a wanted criminal in Dunwall - “

“You have legitimate documents identifying you as Meagan Foster.  You’ll just have to keep your fake name.”

“Then there’s Sokolov - “

“Don’t use him as an excuse, I know he’s already on a ship bound for Tyvia.”

Billie fixed her with a skeptical look.  “Your father.”

“My father has no say in this decision.”

“You realize your nobles are going to pitch a fit if you appoint a low-born unknown as the Royal Protector, right?”

Now it was Emily’s turn to smirk.  “It wouldn’t be the first time the nobles have pitched a fit over one of my decisions.  And considering my father’s continued presence in court, they should be used to it by now.”

Billie poured herself another drink.

Emily’s smirked faded.  “Billie, I’m not going to lie - I really, really want you to say yes.  But if you don’t have a good feeling about it, then you can refuse.”

Billie sighed, knocking back her second helping of whiskey in one go.  “As far as job offers go, it’s not the worst one I’ve ever received,” she said.  “Just... give me a day to think about this, please?”

“That’s only fair,” Emily replied.  “There’s no need to rush into a decision.  I’m pretty capable of taking care of myself when I need to be.”

“Yeah,” Billie said.  “When you’re throwing yourself off of rooftops and shooting whale oil tanks to cause distractions.”

“In my defense,” Emily said, pouring herself another glass of whiskey and grinning, “that only happened twice.”

* * *

 

The sky was still dark when they finally arrived back at Dunwall Tower, sneaking back in the way they came.  Emily wanted nothing more than to collapse onto her bed and pass out, but knew that it would look strange when one of her attendants came in the room and saw her sprawled out in her clothes.  Besides which, she was drained on mana from using Far Reach and her Vision all night.

Billie looked about as exhausted as she felt.  Emily headed over to her desk, pulling out a vial of Addermire Solution for herself and drinking half of it in a few gulps.  Some of her exhaustion faded, but not enough that she didn’t want to just collapse into bed.  

Not yet, though.  She raised the vial in Billie’s direction.  “You need any?”

“That stuff’s just gonna keep me from sleeping.”

Emily shrugged, draining the rest and leaving the empty vial out on her desk.  “Suit yourself.”

She expected Billie to bid her goodnight (or good morning, as the case was) and head through the door that led to the Royal Protector chambers, but instead Billie hesitated for a moment before she went and sat on the edge of Emily’s bed.  Emily tried not to think too hard about that.

“Not all the Brigmore Witches were there because they wanted power,” Billie said, after a moment.  “Some of them wanted to escape terrible lives, and saw Delilah as their way out.  Their way to survive.”

It was her first time talking about her experience with Delilah.  Emily remained silent, waiting for her to continue.  

“I don’t believe for one second that every witch who was granted amnesty was telling the truth when they pleaded their case,” Billie said, tone darkening.  “But I think that those six we met today were.  And they’ve stuck with one another, all this time, because they don’t know how to feel safe otherwise.”

“Billie,” Emily said, “you don’t have to worry about me hunting them down.”

Billie shook her head.  “I’m not.  I know you won’t.  I just...”

Emily got up and crossed the room, sitting next to Billie.  She waited, giving Billie the chance to move away if she wanted, before she tentatively placed a hand atop Billie’s.  Billie seemed to relax a fraction, and it took a moment before she leaned into Emily’s side.  Emily welcome the weight on her shoulder, resisting the urge to place a kiss on the top of her head.

“I had something like that, once,” Billie whispered.  “I squandered it.”

Emily knew that she was talking about Daud and the Whalers, but that Billie wouldn’t say so explicitly in case it upset Emily.  Objectively speaking, however, Emily could understand that Daud had pulled some of his Whalers out of terrible situations and gave them... somewhat better lives.  If killing for a living could be considered better.  

That wasn’t what she needed to be focusing on, however.

“Billie,” Emily said.  “You know you have that here, right?”

A long silence followed her question and for a moment dread curled in the pit of her stomach.  The lingering touches and terrible flirting aside, Emily was starting to realize that she didn’t know what her life would be without Billie in it anymore.  She knew that she couldn’t hold it against Billie if she didn’t feel the same, but it would still hurt.

Finally, Billie let out a low chuckle, and flipped over her hand, lacing her fingers with Emily’s.  “I think I did know that, but it was nice to hear you say it.”

Emily couldn’t quite stop the wave of emotion at that, and she squeezed Billie’s hand, unable to stop herself from grinning.  But the wave didn’t stop when she expected it to, and it took her a few moments to realize that it wasn’t just emotion.  

Her eyes snapped down to the Mark on her hand - the hand currently gripping Billie’s.  It glowed a dark purple for a few moments before it faded to black, and she had a strange sensation of something snapping into place.  Like some part of her had found something it was missing.  

Billie lifted her head off of Emily’s shoulder.  “Wait, what was - “

She made as if to gesture towards Emily’s mark with her own left hand, when she was suddenly yanked from Emily’s grasp with a loud crash.  Emily covered her mouth with her hand to suppress the yell of shock that almost threatened to surface, before she turned her eyes to the other side of the room, where Billie was slumped against the wall, looking dazed.  The papers that had been stacked on Emily’s desk had gone everywhere, and were still fluttering to the floor.

For a minute they were frozen, unable to do anything but stare at one another.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Billie said.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops.


	3. Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's actually a bit shorter than the previous two. Somehow. (I'm sorry, I can't write short chapters.)
> 
> Enjoy!

The sun rose on an Emily and Billie who hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.  

They’d spent the remainder of the night trying to figure out what had happened.  Billie explained the Arcane Bond that Daud had formed with the rest of the Whalers, and that Delilah had had a similar ability.  Her theory was that Emily could do the same, and had unwittingly shared some of her abilities with Billie.

“Is there a way to take them back?” Emily asked.  “That is, if you don’t want them.”

“I’m not sure,” Billie said.  “After I left Dunwall, I couldn’t use Daud’s abilities anymore.  But I don’t know if that’s because of a lack of proximity, or if he somehow severed the bond, or if he’s...”

She trailed off, and though Emily had no love for Daud, she decided not to finish Billie’s sentence.

“Besides,” Billie continued.  “I’m keeping these.  Far Reach is a hell of a lot less disorienting when I’m the one who’s doing it.”

Emily smirked at that.  

They spent the rest of the night figuring how what else Billie was capable of, with Emily explaining each of her powers and what they felt like so that Billie could attempt to use them.  Dark Vision, Domino, Doppelganger, and Mesmerize merited no results; in particular, Billie seemed disappointed that she couldn’t use Dark Vision, citing its usefulness.

However, when Emily explained her Shadow Walk ability, she was surprised to see Billie morph into a monstrous, black form almost immediately after Emily described it to her.  It was an experience to watch it being used when she wasn’t the one using it; she was able to appreciate just how terrified people who saw her likely were.  

The dark mass that Billie had become prowled around the room for about half a minute before she re-formed next to Emily.  

“That,” Billie said, looking slightly ill, “was disturbing.”

“It was for me the first time I used it as well.”

As far as they could tell, however, that was it.  Billie had gained a small subset of Emily’s powers, but Emily couldn’t summon her to her side, and Billie could only use just that - a small subset.

“Guess it’s different for everyone,” Billie surmised.

Neither one was all that inclined to sleep after that, so they snuck back out onto the roof in order for Billie to practice with Far Reach.  Emily coached her on judging distance and how the same ability could be used to pull objects (and people) towards her.  Billie was a fast learner, soon being able to aim her Far Reach with ease.  

When the sky lightened to gray, they crept back into the Royal Chambers.  “It’s not the same as Transverse, but it’s similar enough that I can pick it up quickly,” Billie said.

Emily stared at her still-made bed, her muscles giving exhausted protests at the thought of staying awake, but she knew that she couldn’t afford to sleep in today.  Billie seemed to have a similar thought, because she grumbled and went over to Emily’s desk, pulling out another vial of Addermire Solution.  She drank half of it, then tossed it over to Emily, who finished the rest in a few gulps.

“We’re going to crash really, _really_ hard after this,” Billie warned.  

Emily smiled grimly.  “Don’t worry.  I’m sure today’s excitement will be enough to keep us both awake.”

She at least had the presence of mind to bathe and put on a fresh outfit, scrubbing herself down quickly before one of her attendants could find her, and pinning her now-wet hair up in its usual bun.  She slipped her overcoat back on, and when Uma came to check on her, she was already seated at her desk, trying to organize the paperwork that Billie had disturbed earlier.

“Pardon me, your majesty,” Uma said, bowing.  “Lord Attano would like it if both you and Lady Foster took breakfast with him this morning.  He said he has urgent matters to discuss with you.”

Uma was a petit, elderly woman - someone who loved to gossip, and Emily didn’t miss the way her eyes traveled to Emily’s clearly not-slept-in bed.  Emily suppressed a sigh, knowing that anything she tried to say to explain it would only make Uma’s theories worse, so she plastered a smile on her face.  

“Thank you, Uma,” she said.  “Please inform Lord Attano that Lady Foster and I will be joining him shortly.”

Uma bowed again before backing out of the room.  Emily separated her paperwork into three stacks: one being messages she would need to reply to, another being reports that would need to be added to the archive, and the third more personal messages from the various suitors and ‘friends’ that she had in Dunwall.

With that organizational headache out of the way, Emily stood and knocked on the door to Billie’s chambers.

“Come in.”

She found Billie in her underclothes, standing with her back to the vanity so that she could examine the mostly-healed wound in her shoulder.  Her hair was damp, so evidently she had the same thought as Emily, but that was the least of Emily’s thoughts, her eyes drinking in dusky skin before she had the presence of mind to look away, face burning.

There was a quiet laugh, and Emily glanced up to find Billie looking at her, arms folded.  “Problem?”

She sounded amused.  It stung, just a little bit, and Emily suppressed the blush in her cheeks as she met Billie’s gaze head-on.  

“No,” she said.  “No problem.”

“Then get over here.  I need you to take my stitches out.”

Billie was pulling on a black pair of trousers as she spoke, but she didn’t seem to have any intention of putting on a shirt as well.  She sat herself on the stool in front of the vanity, facing the mirror this time, and rummaged around in the top drawer until she pulled out the small medical kit that she kept in there.  She dug around in it until she pulled out a pair of tweezers and scissors.

Emily had learned enough about treating wounds from Billie back in Karnaca, and she knew the procedure for removing stitches.  

“This is probably gonna hurt,” she warned.

Billie shrugged, catching Emily’s eye in the mirror.  “I can take it.”

“Suit yourself.”  Emily laid her left hand in the center of Billie’s back, just to the left of the wound.  As always, Billie practically radiated warmth, in spite of the early morning temperature of her room.  

To Billie’s credit, she kept perfectly still while Emily first snipped the thread, then used the tweezers to carefully pull it out of her shoulder.  The process only took a few minutes, but as soon as Emily no longer had the task to focus on, her attention was inexorably drawn to the other scars adorning Billie’s back.  

She let her hand move down to a thin, vertical line that bisected her spine.  She trailed a finger along it, feeling Billie shiver.  

“You’ll have to tell me about this sometime,” she murmured.  

“Yeah,” Billie agreed, her voice little more than a rasp.

Emily stepped back, tossing Billie the shirt that was laid out on her bed.  She waited until Billie had pulled on her coat before she relayed her father’s request, which Billie agreed to without hesitating.

Her father was waiting for them in the smaller, more private dining hall, which was where Emily ate when she wanted her meals to be free of stress.  She knew she would need the comfortable environment, considering the day she was likely to have.  

Though petitioners were not allowed in the Tower that day, due to security being focused on the voting stations throughout the city, Emily was scheduled to give a speech in the afternoon, and she was asked to make an appearance at each voting station.  A show of faith, according to the nobles who had pushed for it, though Emily had a feeling it was about maneuvering her into a position that would make it easier to assassinate her.

When she and Billie entered the dining hall, her father sent her a bracing smile.  Emily smiled back, in spite of the fact that her appetite was already turning to dust.

She activated her Vision, checking the room for hidden audiographs (unlikely, but she disliked taking chances), before she sat at the small round table in the center of the room.

“Here,” she said, slipping the assassination request out of her overcoat and onto the table.  “A young woman named Talsin pulled this out of Cal Norman’s drop-off point.  It was originally left there by Sevrina Alsam, one of the candidates for the Tailors’ District.  She’s been missing for the past three days.”

Corvo’s brow furrowed.  “But there’s no direct evidence linking you to whomever might have ordered the hit on you.”

“No,” Emily admitted.  “But then, we haven’t officially raided it yet.  There may be some incriminating documents in there.  Whether this request is related to the attempt on my life or not, I think this matter is worth looking into.  If Sevrina wins the Tailors’ District...”

Her father nodded.  “It could cause problems if she wins and then isn’t around to actually do the job.  I know we have a system in place for something happening to a winner, but I’m not eager to test it.  I’ll put word out with my contacts about this Jin Aseranna, see if I can find anything.  I’ll be sure to ask Norman about it as well.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“Learn anything else?”

Emily hesitated for a moment, debating on whether or not her father needed to know about Sevrina’s heresy.  

“Sevrina Alsam used to be a witch,” Billie said, making the decision for her.  “Part of Delilah’s coven.  We tracked Talsin, the friend who’s looking for her, to a rundown building where six of them were living together.  Seven, if you count Sevrina herself.”

Her father blinked, but didn’t look surprised.  Though not many knew where the witches who had pledged that they were not loyal to Delilah had been relocated to, Corvo was one of the few privy to the information.  

“Was there trouble?” he asked.

“No,” Billie said.  “We weren’t treated with hostility, though they didn’t seem inclined to believe us when we said we weren’t there to harm anyone.  They claim that the only one among them who still had anything to do with magic was Sevrina.  She makes bone charms.”

Her father sighed.  “She’s going to have to tread carefully,” he said.  “She’ll have the scrutiny of the Abbey on her if she’s elected.”

“I wouldn’t take any of them for fools,” Billie replied.  “Even the youngest one, Talsin... they claimed that they no longer had any power, but I’m willing to bet that they’re still dangerous if you tried to mess with them.”

Corvo seemed to get the message.  “So we don’t mess with them, then.  Not unless it becomes necessary.”

“Trust me, Corvo,” Billie said.  “If they have anything to do with the hit on Emily, _I’ll_ be the one to make trouble for _them_.”

With that ominous threat made, the rest of breakfast passed with more idle chatter.  Though her father had remained behind in the castle while she and Billie investigated, he appeared to have gotten little more sleep than they had.  Emily had a feeling that he was going to be slipping out to chug an Addermire solution a few times as well, though maybe not as many times as she and Billie would.

Corvo excused himself after finishing his meal, pausing next to Emily’s chair to kiss the top of her head.  Emily swatted at him playfully, before waving at him as he left the room.

She somehow manage to force her breakfast down her throat, aware of Billie waiting patiently for her.  She didn’t know how Billie could stand to eat so quickly; did her insides not feel like they were writhing like snakes?

“Big day,” Billie said conversationally, once Emily made herself stand.  She gentled her tone as she added, “Have a little faith, Emily.  Whatever their grievances against you might be, people are still grateful to you for taking care of Delilah.  I doubt they’re willing to endure the chaos of your assassination just yet.”

“That ‘just yet’ is inspiring _so_ much confidence.”

“Yeah, well,” Billie said, smirking.  “I have to be realistic.”

* * *

 

On the day that Emily announced her new Royal Protector to her court, she had thought for a moment that a bomb had gone off in the throne room, for all the noise that was being made.  

The newly-titled Lady Protector Meagan Foster had stepped out to her side, dressed in the Royal Protector regalia (a black coat and trousers, with the royal crest pinned to her lapel).  Her face had appeared to be made of stone in the face of the protesting shouts of the nobles, and she stood at perfect parade rest while Emily spoke over the cacophony, calmly outlining Billie’s qualifications and citing vaguely, “We are also thankful for the assistance that Lady Foster provided in ending the coup by the usurper Delilah Copperspoon.”

That had finally been enough to hush the protesters, who were now curious about what kind of ‘assistance’ the Lady Foster had provided.  Was it Meagan Foster who had been responsible for the deaths of Delilah’s allies in Serkonos, and not the Empress herself, as many in Karnaca had whispered?  

The irony was not lost on Emily.  Certainly, Billie was an assassin (former assassin, she’d had to remind herself), but she had not been responsible for any of the deaths that people suspected her of.  

Emily had called for silence, and then added that her father would now be solely holding the title of Royal Spymaster, which caused murmurs but not shouts.  

There were few nobles present in Dunwall Tower on this day, the day that was the culmination of another of Emily Kaldwin’s unpopular-with-the-elite decisions, but there was more noise by far.  The crowds that gathered at each of the voting stations she visited were either cheering or jeering, and sometimes had a mix of both.  Only her visit to the Estate District had the quietest group, but it was also the visit that put her on edge.  It was the residents of this district who had fought against her decision the most.

Still, to her immense surprise, the day passed without any major hiccups.  There was an incident where a man tried to throw a pear at her, but Billie had reached out with one hand, looking almost bored, and caught it, before biting into it and raising an eyebrow in the direction of the man who’d thrown it.

It had taken Emily almost all of her willpower not to burst out laughing.

After giving the speech and feeling like she’d just endured three more months of fighting against Delilah in the span of a few hours, Emily returned to the palace ready to collapse into her bed and sleep for the next 12 hours.  Maybe even 16.  She didn’t really care, as long as no one woke her up before she was good and ready.

It was not to be, however.  She did want to at least stay awake until the votes were counted and the election results were announced.  The counters were each sequestered in a different room in Dunwall Tower, and each had a trusted, hand-picked guard from the Watch to keep an eye on them in case they tried anything suspicious with the votes.

It was past dinner when each of the counters filed into the throne room, all standing before her and bowing.  One counter per district, though none of the counters were chosen to count for their own districts in the name of impartiality.  Her herald called out each district’s name, and when that district was called, its counter would announce the name of the victor and the number of votes they had accumulated.

Emily made a mental note to ask her father whether he planned to investigate the winners.  She doubted the election of a gang leader would bode well for Dunwall.

The Tailors’ District was called upon second-to-last, and Emily had to stop herself from leaning forward in her seat.  The man in front of her cleared his throat, clasping his hands behind his back.  

“Sevrina Alsam,” he said.  “504 votes.”

Well then.  If finding Sevrina hadn’t been a priority before, it would be now.  

When all of the winners had been declared, Emily ordered that the list be broadcast throughout Dunwall and that notices be sent to the residences of each of the winners.  They were to be informed that their presence was requested in one week, at the swearing in ceremony for Dunwall’s new city council.

“It’s over,” Emily sighed, sagging in relief as soon as she was out of the throne room, Billie trailing behind her.  It wasn’t over - not by a long shot - but she could at least pretend, for the sake of her sanity.

“Yes,” Billie agreed, voice wry.  “Now we just need to worry about how much the newly-elected city council is going to fight each other on their decisions.”

“Don’t remind me,” Emily muttered.

They walked together until they came upon Emily’s quarters, at which point Billie laid a hand on Emily’s shoulder.  “I have to go meet with Corvo about the security measures for next week,” she said.  “As for you - as your Royal Protector, I’m ordering you to get some sleep.”

Ordinarily, Emily would point out that Billie’s title was ‘protector’ and not ‘nursemaid’, but today she was too exhausted to argue.  Instead, she nodded, trying not to think about the five or so Addermire solutions she’d consumed to stay on her feet.  Billie seemed to hesitate for a moment, before she leaned forward and kissed Emily on the forehead, her mouth lingering there for a moment longer than was proper.

Emily sent her a small smile before turning away.

She dismissed her attendant as soon as she entered her quarters, not in the mood for company.  She had the presence of mind to change into her sleeping shift and unpin her hair, but she did nothing else before crawling beneath her sheets, sighing in relief as her head hit the pillow.  Her body was practically halfway to shutting down already, and it was almost too easy to let her eyes slip closed.  

The moment they did, however, they snapped back open.  Emily tried to blink, tried to close them again, but they remained still.  Sitting before her, across from a table that had a large diagram of Dunwall Tower on it, was her father.  He wasn’t looking at her, instead focusing his attention on the diagram, pointing out different spots that were weak to attacks.

Emily tried to open her mouth, to ask what was going on, but that didn’t work either.  She then realized that, while she could see and hear her father perfectly well, all other senses seemed to be muted.  She felt numb, and she could smell nothing (not even the candles burning on the table next to her).  

Her eyelids did move, after a moment, but it didn’t seem like a casual blink - rather, they seemed to slip closed every so often, only to snap back open with alarming speed.

Her father paused at one such instance, glancing up at her.  “Meagan,” he said quietly.  “I know I said that we needed to start planning for the swearing in ceremony now, but I also know that you had a long night.  We can put this off until tomorrow so that you can get some sleep.”

Emily laughed - or rather, she realized, Billie did - and said, “Yeah, guess I’m not much use to you like this.  I think I’ll take you up on that, Lord Corvo.”

Emily told herself not to panic, knowing that there had to be some trick to this - some way to shut whatever this was off.  She had... not exactly _possessed_ Billie, but close enough that she knew it had to be temporary.  She immediately wondered if it was a side-effect of the Arcane Bond they’d formed the night before.

She tried to relax, and focused on the feeling of opening her eyes again - how it had felt when she’d closed them in her bed, and the sensation of them snapping open elsewhere.  

Just like that, something clicked in Emily’s head, and her own eyes opened, seeing the darkness of her bedchamber.  She laid there for a few moments, processing what had happened, before her exhaustion caught up with her once more.  Tentatively, she closed her eyes once more, relieved when this time nothing out of the ordinary happened.

She could worry about it tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, at least election day didn't blow up in their faces.


	4. Part IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this were a modern AU, it'd basically be a buddy cop thing.
> 
> Enjoy!

One night later found Emily and Billie on the rooftops once more, this time without Billie needing to hold onto Emily in order for them to cross larger gaps.  

Billie took to Far Reach like she was born to use it.  She already had the distance approximation down to a ‘t’, and there was no hesitation whatsoever before she reached out with the shadows and pulled herself forward.  Emily suspected it had something to do with her prior experiences with the magic of the Void.

The fine mist that had been in the air when they started out at Dunwall Tower turned into a light drizzle by the time they arrived at the Distillery District.  Corvo had told them that one of his informants got wind of someone named Jin who was searching for apartments there.  The landlord that he’d tracked down had admitted that a woman named ‘Jin Walker’ signed for a first floor apartment in his building, though he claimed he didn’t see much of her.

Emily decided against getting the Watch involved, and planned another nighttime excursion rather than an official investigation.  Corvo and Billie had both agreed that discretion was needed in this case, though Billie had also stated that, if they didn’t make any progress on their own, then Captain Murrow would need to be informed at some point.

When they reached Billings Street, where ‘Jin Walker’ was said to live, Emily paused, staring.

At first glance, the road appeared to have a stripe of glowing blue running up and down the middle of it.  She used Far Reach to pull herself down to ground level; upon closer inspection, she realized that it was a small stream of whale oil, leading to a drain further down the road.

Billie landed silently beside her.  “Coincidence?”

“Could be,” Emily replied.  Whale oil spills were more common than she’d have liked, considering how volatile the substance was.

Even so, she looked back in the direction opposite the way the oil was flowing, and a sense of foreboding came over her as she realized exactly where the whale oil was coming from.

The apartment building was small - only two stories, and one of the apartments appeared to have the windows boarded up.  Emily was amazed that the tenants hadn’t been evicted and the property confiscated from the landlord, with the shape it was in.  Worn stone, dirty windows, and overgrown ivy were all features of the building.

The whale oil seemed to be coming from behind the building.  Emily pulled herself back up to the roof, tiptoeing across the tiles until she was able to see the back of it.

The whale oil was seeping out of one of the first floor windows, dripping down to the ground and then running around the right side of the building, where it made its way to the street.  That didn’t bode well for the first floor apartment, which she was now suspecting more and more strongly was the same as the one Jin Walker had signed for a week ago.

She activated her Vision, surveying the apartments and determining which were occupied.  The one directly beneath her feet had someone who was already in bed, presumably asleep, but the one below it appeared to be deserted.  

“We’ll need to be careful,” Billie said, coming up from behind her.  “It could be that she’s got the whale oil rigged to explode.”

Emily nodded.  She could imagine any number of traps that would include the use of whale oil: using the oil itself as an explosive, or to power a device like an Arc Pylon (though she had no idea where Jin Aseranna would get something like that).  

“We’ll stay up here for an hour,” she whispered.  “Wait and see if anyone comes back.  If not, then we’ll go in and take a look around.”

Emily could only keep the Dark Vision activated for a few minutes at a time, and even when she allowed herself to wait in between uses the drain on her mana would be severe enough that she’d be unfocused if their quarry ever showed up.  So she instead assigned Billie to one end of the rooftop while she took the other, both keeping a lookout in silence instead of opting to chat with one another.

Speaking of chats, Emily had yet to discuss her discovery with Billie.  She knew that she couldn’t afford to wait long to bring it up, as she knew that Billie had a right to know, but she also didn’t know how to broach the topic.  Where did she start - by just outright saying that she could now see through Billie’s eyes if she wanted to, but that she wanted to make sure Billie was okay with it before she did?

A half-hour had passed before Emily stopped dwelling on it and stood, activating her Vision again so that she could still keep an eye on her side of the building.  Billie didn’t turn to look at her as she approached, and her only reaction to Emily sitting beside her (though with her back to the edge) was to glance at her for a moment.

Billie looked back at the street below.  “Something on your mind?”

“Yeah,” Emily answered.  “The other night, before I went to sleep, I... something strange happened.  I thought I’d closed my eyes, but they were back open right away and I could see my father.”

“I don’t follow.”

“He was talking about how to organize the guards for the swearing in ceremony,” Emily said.  “You kept falling asleep, though, so eventually he sent you to bed.  I managed to... come back to myself, after that.”

Billie didn’t respond to that, and Emily craned her head back to look at her.  Unsurprisingly, Billie’s face was emotionless.

“So you were in my head.”

“Apparently.”

Billie shook her head, laughing quietly.  “So there is more to that Arcane bond than we thought.  I did wonder.  But you didn’t have any control, right?  Or I would’ve noticed something.”

“No, I had no control.”  Emily paused.  “Listen... I’d rather not use it.  Even if I’m not in control, I... it’s a breach of privacy.  It’s unfair to you.”

Billie was quiet again.  She didn’t look at Emily, keeping her eyes fixed on the street, and Emily turned her own gaze back to the other side of the building, the purple haze still overlaying her vision.  She had the sudden urge to draw her knees up to her chest.

“I appreciate that,” Billie finally said.  “I’m not comfortable with the idea of you using that either.”

“Okay, then - “

“But.”

Emily fell silent.

“If there’s ever some kind of emergency, then you have my permission to use it.”  Billie paused.  “Or if we plan ahead of time, for whatever reason.  Either of those situations is fine.  I trust your judgment.”

Emily leaned over and bumped Billie’s shoulder with her own.  “That means a lot, you know.”

Billie didn’t answer with words, but the gentle way in which she bumped Emily’s shoulder back spoke for itself.

Emily ended up going to sit back on the other side of the roof, knowing that she couldn’t afford to keep using her Vision.  An hour passed with them both silently waiting, but no one appeared in that time.  There didn’t seem to be anyone out on the streets, not even to investigate the whale oil spill.

The two of them went to the back of the building again, and pulled themselves down to the ground just outside the window where the leak was coming from.  Emily grimaced when she saw multiple full tanks stacked in the window, all giving off their signature blue glow.  Apart from that, she could discern nothing about the apartment’s interior.

Emily made to open the window, but Billie glared at her until she took a few steps back.  Billie was the one who eased the window open, but Emily’s heart was still beating in her throat as she waited for it to trigger... something.  A single crossbow bolt would be enough to detonate the whale oil.

Nothing happened.  

“Let’s get these tanks out of here,” Billie whispered.

They piled all six tanks in the space between the apartment building and the building to its left, then climbed in through the window, with Billie preceding Emily.

The room they found themselves in was small, but whoever had taken up residence here had certainly not wasted any of the space.  A chill crawled up Emily’s spine as she took in the details: the way that whale oil was streaked along the walls in deliberate patterns, while tinted lanterns in each corner gave off a purple glow rather than the light blue of the oil.  In the center of the room, a small shrine had been fashioned, and wherever the wall wasn’t covered in whale oil, lines of text were scrawled on it instead.  

Emily didn’t move.  There were markings on the floor as well, appearing to spiral out from the shrine.  There was a familiar buzzing in her bones now that she was near it, and she could see two runes sitting atop the shrine, but she didn’t dare approach.  The setup reminded her too much of the Oraculum, and she had no idea what it might do if she went to the center.

“Someone had a lot of time on their hands,” Billie commented.  Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

Emily nodded in agreement.  “No wonder no one ever saw a whole lot of ‘Jin Walker’.  The question is, how much power does she really have?  Is this a setup for something greater, or is this just as harmless as all the other shrines people make?”

“You think the Outsider might have Marked her?”

Emily grimaced.  It wasn’t a pleasant thought, mostly because for all she knows, that was exactly what he did.  

“I hope not,” she said, “but we have to consider the possibility.”

“So what you’re saying is, we need a witch to tell us what any of this - “ Billie made a broad sweeping gesture at the room.  “- means.  Guess it’s a good thing that we know where a few live, right?”

Emily hadn’t considered that.  “You think they’ll want to get involved?”

“I think they want to find Sevrina as much as we do.  Moreso, even.”

“Good point.”

There was always the chance that none of them would have the level of expertise demonstrated by this room, but Emily hoped that it was only a small chance.  

“We’ll have to split up,” she warned.  “We can’t afford to leave this place unguarded.”

“You go,” Billie said.  “I’ll stay and keep an eye on things here.”

She spoke with her ‘no arguments allowed’ tone of voice, and Emily knew better than to try to contest that.  “Be careful,” was all she said.

“Yeah,” Billie replied.  “You too.  Don’t go falling off the roofs or anything.”

“I’ll do my very best.”

* * *

 

By the time Emily made it to the Tailors’ District, the rain had intensified.  It still wasn’t downpouring, but it was coming down hard enough that her overcoat was almost soaked through and her hair was plastered to the sides of her head.  The sheen of moisture on the city made it look like it was glowing wherever there were streetlights, and the patter of raindrops put her at ease in spite of the task at hand.

Once again, the glow of firelight emanated from the house, and when Emily knocked on the front door, it was Ysannifer who answered.  She didn’t look surprised to see Emily in the slightest.

“Your majesty,” she greeted, keeping her spine ramrod straight.  “Come in, I can’t imagine it’s comfortable out in the rain.”

“Thank you.”

Unlike her first time visiting the house, the front room was almost deserted.  Only Darren was present, sitting in his chair and sipping at a cup of tea with a book on his lap.  He looked up when Emily and Ysannifer entered the room, quickly shutting his book and standing so that he could bow.

“Empress Emily,” he said.  “We weren’t expecting to see you back here so soon.  Do you have news?”

Emily nearly winced at his hopeful tone of voice.  

“Quiet down, Darren,” Ysannifer hissed.  “Talsin, Marta and Mariya might sleep like rocks, but if you wake up Della there’ll be hell to pay.”

Darren ducked his head, running his hand through his hair.  

Emily spoke then, careful to keep her voice down.  “Lady Foster and I are investigating an apartment whose tenant has the name Jin Walker.  We got there without any incidents, but the room is covered in symbols that we don’t understand.  I was hoping that one of you might come with me so that we can try to figure out what the person was doing.”

Ysannifer’s brow furrowed.  “So you believe that, whoever Jin is, she’s a witch.”

“Signs are certainly pointing that way.”

Darren and Ysannifer exchanged uneasy glances.  They seemed to communicate with their eyes alone, until Ysannifer released a long sigh and raised her hands in the air as though in surrender.  

Darren, meanwhile, bowed again.  “I’d be happy to accompany you, your majesty.  While Marta is the best qualified to understand what the symbols mean - that woman is a genius, has the head for that kind of thing - I’m no slouch myself.  Besides, I suffer from insomnia.  Perhaps this will be enough to tire me out.”

Emily smiled.  “Glad to have you along.  And you’re welcome to just call me Emily - there aren’t exactly any nobles around to judge me right now.”

“Take care,” Ysannifer warned.  Her warning was more directed at Darren, so Emily didn’t reply.  The older woman’s eyes flickered over to Emily, and if Emily had any doubts about Ysannifer’s mistrust of her, then they were gone now.

“If this is a trap,” Emily said, “it’s not one set by me.  I can swear that much to you.”

Ysannifer inclined her head.  “I’ll be sure to hold you to that.”

She only had to wait another minute or two for Darren to retrieve his jacket, pulling it on over his frame before nodding to her.  The rain had gone back to a drizzle when they emerged out into the street, and Emily began to lead the way, keeping to the ground instead of taking to the rooftops.  Her hope was that, if they encountered any City Watch members, they would pay no heed to a man and a woman trying to cross through a district or two.

It was the reason why she pulled her scarf down from her face, putting up her hood instead.

They were about halfway through Draper’s Ward when Emily felt that they were far enough from the last Watch patrol to engage in conversation.

“I have to ask,” she said.  “Why...?”

“Why did I join Delilah?” he finished for her.  He chortled lightly.  “A question many of the members of the coven put to me as well.  I used to be a physician, you know.  Though I was never prestigious enough to make into the Academy.  I ran an apothecary.  My sister joined Delilah’s witches, thought my skills with herbs and my knowledge of physical maladies might be useful, so she endorsed me.  The rest you can probably guess at.”

He went on to explain that he was usually performing rituals that aided in curing illnesses and helping with injuries, and that he had healthy respect for Delilah at first.

Emily noticed his wording.  “Until?”

“My sister died during an important ritual.”  He shrugged, looking down at his feet.  “I thought perhaps it was an accident, but I found out later that the ritual required a human sacrifice.  Meeting Sevrina after that was the final nail in the coffin.”

“So you, and Sevrina and the others... you didn’t support Delilah even back then?”

“The others had their own reasons for joining,” Darren pointed out.  “Not all of them because they had the right abilities and the right leverage.  But they’re not my stories to tell.”

_ It was about survival, for some of them.   _ Billie’s words echoed in her mind.

The rest of their journey was quiet, until they reached the street where Jin’s apartment was.  Darren didn’t comment on the stripe of whale oil in the middle of the road, but he did seem startled by the number of whale oil tanks they’d found.  Emily helped him climb in through the window, only to hear his startled exclamation.

She didn’t think twice: she used Far Reach to pull herself in after him, only to blink at the scene in front of her.

The floor was  _ littered  _ with dead rats.  White rats, brown rats - they looked like plague rats to Emily, the likes of which were still sometimes seen but generally not worried about.  She could barely make out the symbols on the floor through the corpses, and it was such a drastic change that she almost didn’t notice the other feature in the room.

In the doorway was Billie, who had a knee in the throat of a young, blond woman with wide eyes.  By contrast, Billie looked almost bored, holding her knife in a reverse grip - a clear threat should the woman try to struggle.

“What happened?” Emily demanded.  

“A little while after you left,” Billie began, not taking her eyes off the woman, “rats started swarming the place.  I just climbed up on the table and threw a smoke grenade - turns out rats have delicate respiratory systems, most of them didn’t survive it - and then, after I made sure the rats were dead,  _ this  _ woman came running into the room with a knife, yelling ‘for Delilah’.”

Emily glanced at Darren.  “Do you know her?”

Darren shook his head.  He still seemed shell-shocked by the scene in front of him, but at Emily’s stare he shook himself and began to walk around the room, heedless of the rats squished beneath his boots, examining the symbols scrawled on the walls.

The attacker, meanwhile, let out a gurgle.  Billie looked back at Emily, and Emily gave her a nod.

In one smooth motion, Billie removed her knee from the woman’s throat and flipped her over, pulling both hands behind her back and holding them there.  “Now you can speak,” she said.  

“Damn you to the Void!” the woman spat.  

Emily crossed the room, then crouched in front of the woman, whose face was upturned enough to see her.  Her eyes widened, as though she finally realized just who Emily was.  

“You!” she howled, thrashing in Billie’s grip.  “ _ You _ , curse your name, Emily Kaldwin - “

“Your insults aren’t going to get you out of this,” Emily interrupted, voice hard.  “Now, we can do this one of two ways.  One way is that you tell us everything, starting with your name, and then we take you into custody and you stay locked up in Coldridge for ten, maybe five years if you’re well-behaved.”

The woman continued to glare at her in silence.  

“The other way,” Emily continued, “is that I turn you over to the Abbey of the Everyman and tell them that you’re a witch who attacked my Lady Protector.  The Overseers aren’t feeling too charitable towards witches right now.”

_ That  _ got the effect that Emily was waiting for.  The woman blanched, ceasing her struggles.  

“I-I’ll tell them you’re a heretic,” she stammered out, but the bite behind her words was absent.  “I’ll tell them about what you did in Karnaca - “

“Rumors that the new High Overseer has already denounced?” Emily asked, raising an eyebrow.  “Who do you think they’re more likely to believe?”

“I will tell you nothing!” howled the woman, starting to thrash again.  “ _ I will tell you nothing _ !”

“She won’t need to, your maj - Emily,” interrupted Darren, making Emily jump.  She’d almost forgotten he was there.  “I can’t say anything for specifics, but I have a general idea of what this ritual was meant to do.”

“Traitor!” snarled the woman.  “You forget where your loyalties ought to lie.”

Darren ignored her.  “Many of the lines drawn and the symbols would appear to be drawn at random, in the eyes of a novice, but this kind of setup is much more subtle than it appears.  Each of the lines is, in some way, redirected to the center of the room, and the symbols are all carefully arranged so that, no matter which order you read them in, they always say the same thing.”

“Can you tell what it’s meant to do?” Emily asked.

“So far as I can tell, it’s meant to redirect life force,” Darren said.  “If someone were to die in this spot, the life force of that person would be directed into the center of the room.  Once there, it would move to the location written on the runes.”

Emily eyed the small table and the two runes atop it.  “So that’s what those are for.  I wondered why I didn’t feel any power until I was in the room.  Can you figure out where the runes were meant to send the energy to?”

Darren shook his head.  “I know the theory behind a ritual like this, but not the specifics.  As I said before, it’s possible that Marta would understand, but most symbols involving location were personal.  They had meaning only to the user.”

Emily nodded.  Not for the first time, she wondered if she should learn more about witchcraft - if only so that she didn’t have to consult on matters like this.  She dismissed the notion almost immediately; most likely it would only attract the attention of the Overseers.  

She was about to thank Darren for his help, again, when the woman started laughing.  

“It’s too late now,” she said, giggling.  “I don’t want to die, but she warned me this might happened.  She warned me, and I prepared, and now it’s too late!”

“What are you - “ Emily started, but stopped when she saw Billie’s expression.

“Her knife is in the corner,” Billie said.  “Bring it over here.  Don’t touch the blade.”

Emily did as asked, feeling her alarm building.  The knife was small, and unremarkable in appearance, but as she examined it she couldn’t help but notice the sickly green tinge on the edge.  

“Poison,” Billie confirmed.  Her eyes narrowed.  “Pandyssian, if I’m not mistaken.”

The woman giggled again.  “You would know, wouldn’t you?  Assassin.  One of  _ his _ .”

Billie stiffened, but didn’t reply.  Instead, she stood up, staring at the woman, who didn’t bother to move even though she was now free.  Emily could see it now - the cut on her left arm, which Billie would likely have assumed was done by accident.  An amateurish mistake by someone who didn’t know how to handle a knife.

“If we move her out of the room - “ Emily began.

“No use,” Billie replied hollowly.  “She’s already dead.”

“She -  _ what _ ?”  But upon closer inspection, Emily discovered Billie was right.  The blond woman was motionless, and she didn’t appear to be breathing.  Her gaze was fixed on a point on the wall behind Emily.

“The ritual has already worked,” Darren said.  “You can feel it.”

Indeed, now that Emily paid attention, she noticed that she no longer felt the buzz of magic in the room.  The runes were lifeless now, even when she took them off the table and examined them.  The glow from the whale oil seemed to fade away, even as Emily watched, and without warning the rats that had littered the room turned to dust.

“So this was a trap,” Billie surmised.  “But was it for us?”

Emily couldn’t say for sure.  Even with tonight’s revelations, they still didn’t know enough.

Darren cleared his throat.  “If that’s all you’ll be needing, Emily, I’d like to return for the night.  It’s getting late.”

“I can escort you back,” Emily volunteered.

“No,” Billie countered.  “ _ You _ need to get some sleep.  I’ll take him back.”

Emily scowled at her, but she knew that Billie was right.  In spite of the amount of sleep she’d gotten the night before, she knew she still hadn’t quite recovered from election day.  This late night would only add to that.  

“Fine,” she said.  “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.  We need to discuss this with my father.  This just got more complicated.”

“That’s putting it lightly.”

Emily left the apartment building first, pulling herself up to the roof and pausing only to drink another flask of Addermire solution.  She waited until she saw two figures climb out the window and set off down the street in the direction of the Tailors’ District before she turned back in the direction of the palace, Far Reaching until they were out of sight.

* * *

 

Alas, a restful night seemed to be out of the question.

Emily had only bothered to strip out of her wet things before she collapsed into bed, feeling herself sink into sleep the moment her head hit the pillow.  This time, however, instead of seeing out of Billie’s eyes, she found herself staring at blue nothingness.

She was standing on the very edge of a precipice; she took a few steps back, taking in her surroundings as she did so.  Other islands floated around the one she stood on, one of which seemed to have the house where Ysannifer, Darren, and the others lived.  Another featured her father and Billie, frozen in conversation.  A third showed herself, in the middle of her speech on election day.

“Quite an exciting week you’ve been having, Emily Kaldwin.”

Emily had guessed that this was the Void, though it was very different from the one she was used to.  Then again, that Void had been polluted by Delilah’s spirit, which meant that this was likely the way it was supposed to be.  It smelled of salt instead of mold, and that was already an improvement.

She turned around, unsurprised to the find the Outsider behind her.

“An election day marred by the disappearance of one of its victors,” he continued, pacing in front of her (or maybe floating was more accurate - Emily could never quite tell).  “The discovery that Delilah’s coven was a bit more nuanced that you originally believed.  An attempt on your life - though I suspect that that’s old hat for you - and the formation of an Arcane Bond with your Royal Protector.  All unexpected, to say the least.”

“I never thought my reign would be easy once I took down Delilah,” Emily replied.  The problem with her before the coup was that she’d wanted it to be easy, and couldn’t accept that if it wasn’t hard, then she likely wasn’t doing it right.  

“No,” the Outsider agreed.  “You were finally prepared to face the responsibilities, weren’t you?  Or at least, that’s how you felt when you finally put your blade in Delilah’s throat.”

“Why are you here?” Emily asked.  The Void knew that he only showed up when there was trouble at hand.

The Outsider lifted one corner of his mouth.  “The decisions you’ve been making lately might seem small to you, but the truth is that they’ve been earth-shattering.  But up until now, the consequences haven’t caught up to you.  They’re going to start, now.”

Emily tried to say that she was ready for them, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of foreboding, and swallowed instead.

“What many people don’t understand,” the Outsider continued, “is that consequences are neutral, even if your decisions are not.  Six months ago you chose to make Billie Lurk your Lady Protector, in spite of the pain she indirectly caused you and your father.  Three months ago you announced the plan for an elected city council, and have only barely avoided rioting in the streets.  Now you’re trying to navigate a war between witches, but you’re still half-blind.”

Emily folded her arms.  “If you’re not going to be helpful...”

“Your weaknesses will be exploited.”

Emily bristled.  “I’m not so foolish as to think I don’t have any weaknesses, but you’re going to have to be more specific.”

The Outsider tilted his head to the side.  “You spared many of Delilah’s followers, despite the fact that it’s clear that some of them lied about denouncing her.  A dangerous move, born of... what?  Compassion?  A feeling of kinship?”

“Are you saying I should’ve been more ruthless?”

“I’m not suggesting anything,” he said.  “However... Corvo may not have my Mark any longer, but I still walk in his thoughts, at times.  He questions your judgment.  The nobles all see a woman as soft-hearted as her mother, and they see the same fate for you as they did for her.”

Emily couldn’t have cared less about what the nobles thought, but the Outsider’s declaration about her father disturbed her more than she wanted to admit.  

“Of course,” the Outsider added, “this is why I Marked you.  Even after the crisis is finished, you continue to surprise me.  You haven’t let the lives you’ve taken cloud your judgment.  It’s fascinating.”

“Are we done here?” Emily asked.  

“In a manner of speaking,” the Outsider said, shrugging.  “But the decisions you make in the days to come will shape not only your future, but the future of those around you as well.  Your life is not the only life at stake.  Keep that in mind.”

Images flashed through Emily’s head, unbidden: Billie, her father.  Before she could ask the Outsider what he meant, however, she heard someone calling her name as though through water, and the last thing she saw was the Outsider actually  _ smiling  _ at her.  

Breathing harshly, Emily opened her eyes to see Billie hovering over her, looking worried.  

“You were calling out in your sleep,” she said.  “It sounded bad.  You okay?”

The Outsider’s warning was still ringing through her head, and Emily’s heart was still pounding, and before she could really think about what she was doing, she sat up and pressed her mouth to Billie’s.

Billie seemed to freeze up, even as Emily let her eyes slide closed.  Emily tentatively moved her lips against Billie’s, and that seemed to be enough; Billie began to respond, angling her head slightly so that their mouths fit together more, and resting a hand on Emily’s cheek, her thumb stroking her skin.  The noise that Emily made in the back of her throat was involuntary, but she responded by wrapping an arm around Billie’s neck, pulling her closer.  

She managed to coax Billie into sitting, practically in Emily’s lap, and put one of her hands on Billie’s hip.  Billie was still wearing her clothes, minus her coat, and Emily could feel the heat of her through the thin shirt she wore.  

Emily pulled away to take a breath, before she trailed her mouth down to Billie’s throat, kissing the spot where she could feel Billie’s pulse fluttering.  The strangled sound that Billie made only encouraged her, and she sucked on the spot where Billie’s neck met her collarbone.  

“Emily,” Billie breathed out, voice ragged.  Emily hummed against Billie’s skin, and felt Billie’s other hand land on her shoulder.  “Emily, wait.”

Emily pulled back immediately, feeling an oncoming wave of embarrassment.  Sure, Billie had reacted, but that may have been involuntary.

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “I don’t - I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Billie said, shaking her head.  “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I haven’t exactly discouraged any of your flirting.”

Emily’s urge to bury her face in a pillow and scream lessened somewhat.  “So... you want this?”

“Yes, I want this,” Billie said.  “But I wasn’t sure if  _ you  _ did.”

“Of course I do!”  Emily huffed, folding her arms, and realized that she was still naked.  Not that Billie even seemed to notice.  “I have been the one doing the flirting, after all.”

“I could never be sure.”  Billie raised a hand when Emily opened her mouth to argue.  “I know - but I want us to talk about this before we go any further.  And not right now.  We both need sleep.”

Emily hesitated, wanting to argue that she could talk about this now, but then she noticed how exhausted Billie looked and remembered that she’d been out longer than Emily had.  She nodded in agreement, her own tiredness returning after the adrenaline from being in the Void had faded.  

“Okay,” she said.  “We’ll talk about this later.”  It wasn’t enough to stop her from leaning forward and kissing Billie on the cheek.  “Good night.”

Billie sent her a small smile, standing.  “Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *nervous laughter*


	5. Part V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things start to pick up a bit in this chapter. Hope you like it!

Morning dawned on another unusually warm day in Dunwall.  Emily grumbled as sunlight streamed through her window, unwilling to drag herself out of bed until she remembered that Corvo would want to know about the incident from the night before.  Sighing, she rolled out of bed and headed over to get dressed, the gritty feeling in her throat telling her that she hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep.

It wasn’t until she was halfway through pinning up her hair that the rest of the night’s events caught up to her.  Eyes widening, she glanced at the door to Billie’s quarters, feeling unusually apprehensive at the prospect of seeing her Lady Protector.  Had she been any less tired and disoriented, she would’ve addressed her feelings for Billie in a much more tactful manner.

...or at least, she was pretty sure she would have.

At any rate, there was nothing she could do about it now, and Billie certainly hadn’t rejected her.  She just wanted them to talk.

Emily breathed out.  Talking, she could do.

Billie was the one to knock on Emily’s door this time, and when Emily told her to enter, there was... a small amount of awkwardness, but not enough for her to feel uncomfortable.  They took breakfast together in Emily’s quarters, finishing up the meal by sipping their morning tea and discussing Emily’s next political endeavor, which was to instill a property tax based on the net wealth of an individual’s possessions.

Billie snorted.  “They’re never gonna go for that one.”

“I know,” Emily replied.  “That’s why I need to be careful about my wording.”

The morning’s schedule included two meetings - one with Elise Murrow, who was supposed to have an update on how the City Watch was faring since the elections, and the other with the High Overseer.  After that, she’d planned for lunch with her father, where she would finally be able to openly the discuss the events of the night before with him.

In spite of the amount of pressure that Emily knew Captain Murrow had to be under, the woman somehow managed look impeccable, without a single hair out of place.  She handed over a stack of reports and then summarized the contents for Emily, her tone remaining cool and professional during the entire exchange.  She only seemed thrown off when Emily questioned her about whether there was any unusual activity in the Distillery District.

Murrow sent her an odd look.  “The Distillery District?  You mean the one that had one candidate that was almost unanimously supported by everyone?  We’re not in plague times anymore, when the Bottle Street Gang was still in business, your majesty.”

“All the same,” Emily said, “please let me know if that changes.”

Captain Murrow was a smart woman.  She narrowed her eyes at Emily.  “Begging your pardon, your majesty, but I can’t help you if I don’t know the full story.”

Emily kept her expression neutral.  “As soon as my Spymaster knows more, you’ll be notified, Captain Murrow,” she said.  “Thank you.  You’re dismissed.”

As soon as Murrow had bowed and exited the room, Billie (who had once again observed the meeting from a corner of the room) spoke up.  “You handled that pretty gracefully, although she’s not going to let you off the hook now.”

“Yes,” Emily said, frowning.  “But if we’re right about those traps being placed around the city, then we’re going to need her help to find them and clear them out anyway.”

They were currently in a small, more comfortable reading room, with a fire crackling in the corner and two armchairs with a table between them.  Billie seemed to be more on-edge than usual, which could have been for a number of reasons: the glass doors, the fact that they were about to meet with the High Overseer, or the events of the previous evening.  

They didn’t have to wait long before High Overseer Lumis entered the room, instructing the two Overseers accompanying him to wait outside.  He wore the familiar red coat of the High Overseer, and was said to always be in the company of an Overseer with a music box.  His black hair was long and pulled into a ponytail, and his brow seemed to be eternally creased.  

Khulan had held him in high regard, but Emily had not yet met with him enough times to make a proper judgment of him.

He bowed low, which was one habit that Emily knew about.  “Your majesty,” he greeted, his voice smooth.  He also nodded at Billie.  “Lady Foster.”

“High Overseer Lumis,” Emily said, bowing her head.  “The crown welcomes you to Dunwall Tower.  What news of the Abbey?  Perhaps you can dispel the rumors that the recovery is still slow.”

“Would that I could, your majesty,” Lumis sighed.  “Unfortunately, with the amount of Overseers lost in the fight against Delilah, our numbers remain greatly diminished.  I refuse to place pressure on those overseeing the tests at Whitecliff.  We must not sacrifice true devotion in order to increase our numbers.”

“Of course,” Emily said.  “I take it, then, that your activities remain much the same as they have been since Delilah’s coup?”

“That’s correct, your majesty,” he answered.  “We open the doors of the Abbey in order to welcome those who require the aid of the Strictures in these troubled times once a week, and send out what Overseers we have to spread our gospel to those who will listen.  We are also encouraging families to take pamphlets of their young ones, so that they may learn the Strictures.”

He paused, a conflicted look appearing on his face.  “I must confess, your majesty, what I have seen of the city is not promising.  Though some remain faithful, many have turned to heretical aid for the answers to their problems.  I fear that, if the city continues down this path - “

He broke off, swallowing.  Emily could not for the life of her figure out whether or not he was faking his concern, and that made him dangerous.  Still, she knew it would be best for her to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially since Khulan seemed to believe him to be a good man.

“I would provide you aid,” Emily said, “but I am uncertain as to how I could help.  Most of these difficulties seem as though they can only be healed by time itself.  I do not think it wise to strongarm my citizens into placing their faith in the Abbey, High Overseer - especially not with the recent tensions surrounding the elections.”

“No, no,” he said, waving a hand.  “Of course not, your majesty.  Though they turn to heresy now, we must have faith that they will find their way back to the Strictures one day.  The Outsider is fickle; doubtless it will soon become clear that he will not provide any aid to the suffering citizenry.”

Emily held back a laugh, all too aware of how true his words were.  And yet...

Her mind went to Sevrina, who apparently still carved bone charms and made something of a living off of them.  They must have some kind of real power, or else she would lose her reputation and people would stop going to her for them.  The problem was what the people who were connected to the Void chose to do with their power, not the Outsider himself.

But she couldn’t very well tell Lumis that.  She clenched her left fist.

“All heresy aside,” she said, after a long moment, “the city seems to be on its way to recovering - spiritually - from the ordeal Delilah put it through, yes?  No major incidents?”

“For the most part,” agreed High Overseer Lumis.  “Though we did make an arrest today.  One of the few we’ve made since the coup.  I think I should like your input in this matter, your majesty - or perhaps,” he said, looking over at where Billie stood in the corner, “Lady Foster could provide input?”

It was a good thing Lumis wasn’t facing her, because Emily’s eyes went wide before she could stop them.  Her heart began to pound as her thoughts raced - had he figured out who ‘Lady Foster’ really was?  Had someone witnessed her using her powers and reported it to the Overseers?  Or did he somehow know about Billie’s brief affiliation with Delilah, 15 years ago?

Billie was the one who spoke, unfolding her arms, her expression a mask.  “I’m afraid I don’t follow, High Overseer.”

“...ah,” said Lumis, looking from Billie to Emily (who by now had regained her composure).  “I had assumed - many people assume - that you were the one responsible for the demise of Delilah, and might have some insights on someone who claims to be one of her followers.  I apologize if I was mistaken.”

His curious gaze had switched from Billie to Emily, now, as though he was reconsidering all the rumors that had initially been surrounding Emily.  They’d been swept under the rug the moment Emily appointed Billie as Royal Protector, with everyone theorizing that Billie must have played the pivotal role in Delilah’s defeat instead of the Empress herself.  

She decided on a middle ground.  “Whatever information there is regarding what Delilah and her followers were capable of, Lady Foster and I are both privy to it.  You may ask your questions, High Overseer.”

Lumis seemed to take a moment to digest that information, his eyes still swiveling back and forth between them before they settled on Emily once more.  

“We made the arrest early this morning,” he said, after a moment.  “Overseer Tremmell was attacked by a man with a knife, who cried out Delilah’s name as he attempted to stab him multiple times.  Fortunately, the man wasn’t very skilled with a blade, and Overseer Tremmell was able to defend himself.”

Emily resisted the urge to exchange glances with Billie.  It sounded a little bit too much like what had occurred the previous night.

“It’s... unusual,” Lumis said.  “I was not aware that there were men within Delilah’s ranks.  This man appears to be in his forties, and would seem utterly average were it not for his ravings.  We are holding him in captivity at present, but he is giving us no insight into his attack.  Nothing that we can discern, at any rate.”

Emily remained silent, trying to figure out how to ask to see the man without sounding like she knew too much about him.  Most likely she could sneak into Holger Square tonight to interrogate him, without anyone’s notice, and she would have to avoid having to ask entirely.

“His name is rather odd, as well,” Lumis continued.  “He claims to be called Jin Aseranna.”

The gears that had, up until now, been turning in Emily’s head abruptly stopped.

“Jin Aseranna?” she asked, not bothering to keep the alarm out of her voice.  “You’re sure?”

“Yes, your majesty.”  Lumis eyed her with concern.  “That name means something to you.”

“I’m afraid it does.”  Thinking quickly, she used her most conspiratorial tone as she leaned forward in her seat.  “High Overseer Lumis, what I’m about to tell you must not be repeated to anyone.  Up until now, it was a matter that was kept between myself, the Royal Spymaster, and the Royal Protector in attempt to keep the public calm.”

She ignored the alarmed look Billie was shooting her, focusing instead on Lumis, who had also leaned forward.

“You have my word, your majesty,” he replied, bowing his head.  “If it is a matter of importance, then you have my discretion.”

Emily took a deep breath, and told him everything.  Well, almost everything.

She amended some parts - instead of detailing the nighttime excursion that led to the discovery of Sevrina Alsam’s disappearance, she made it seem as though rumors had led to her father investigating further.  She then explained the clues that they had found thus far, and explained that it seemed ‘Jin Aseranna’ was responsible.  

Lumis’ eyes widened by the end of her explanation, and he was on his feet a moment later.  “Then this is a matter of the utmost importance, your majesty,” he said.  “I assume that you and the Royal Spymaster will be wanting to question the man we have in custody as soon as possible?”

“Yes.”

He bowed to her.  “Then I will await you at the waterlock, your majesty.  We can return to Holger Square together.”

Emily narrowed her eyes at him.  “You have him on public display?”

The reprimand in her tone did not go unnoticed by the High Overseer, and he narrowed his eyes in turn, not backing down.  “A public display is still an effective way to prove to the citizens that heresy can only lead to madness.  He is being watched at all times, I can assure you.  He is no threat to anyone.”

So, this High Overseer had more backbone than Emily had originally assumed - and was likely more cunning than he showed.  That could prove dangerous.  She needed to keep an eye on him in the future.

For now, though, she nodded.  “Very well, High Overseer.  We will meet you at the waterlock.  Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

Lumis gave her a nod, then left the room, leaving Emily and Billie to prepare themselves to confront a witch.

* * *

 

Corvo was... not happy with the fact that Emily had to tell him about the previous night in hushed whispers, to say the least.  

“And you told him  _ everything _ ?” he muttered.

“Not everything,” Emily whispered back.  “Not about Sevrina being a witch, and not about the trap we almost got caught in last night.  But we will need to find a way to tell him about the trap eventually.  I have a feeling that it wasn’t the only one.”

“Outsider’s eyes, Emily,” he sighed.  “I’m starting to think that Meagan’s right about your self-preservation instinct.”

On Emily’s right, Billie sent her a triumphant look.  Emily resisted the urge to roll her eyes; they were in public, and it wouldn’t do to have the citizens of Dunwall (who were already gathering on the edges of the streets, curious about the Empress choosing to walk to Holger Square) to see her be ‘unladylike’, even if they were somewhat obscured by being in a carriage.  

“We were going to need to get them involved anyway,” Emily pressed.  “We’ll need to speak to Captain Murrow about this as well.  I don’t like it either, but right now it’s the course of action with the least amount of risk.  We don’t know how many followers Jin has.  For all we know, she could be planning a larger scale attack.”

Her father looked like he wanted to argue further, but Emily could tell by the slump of his shoulders that he knew she was right.  They were silent on the rest of the way to Holger Square.

Sure enough, there was a man chained up on the platform.  He didn’t appear to have been harmed aside from a few bruises on his face and chest, and his eyes were clear as he took in the new arrivals with a sneer on his face.  Also of note were the older scars that covered both his arms.  The two Overseers facing him were both immoveable, not outwardly responding to him.  One carried a music box.

“The false Empress arrives!” the man proclaimed.  “I did wonder when you would appear, murderer.”

Emily ignored his taunt, stepping forward until she was only a few feet away from him, with Billie and Corvo flanking her.  She was aware of the Overseers on her periphery, who were herding the civilians out of the square under Lumis’ orders, and of Lumis himself a few feet behind her, no doubt curious about what kind of questions she would ask.

“Is your name really Jin Aseranna?” she asked him.  

The man smiled, looking amused.  “For all you know it could be, False Empress.  Male witches are not unheard of.”

“That sounded like a ‘no’ to me,” Billie said, her voice as dry as the Dust District.

The man’s smile was replaced with a scowl.  “Oh, she  _ speaks _ , does she?” he spat.  “The famed Royal Protector, always so stoic at her False Empress’ side.  Makes one wonder what sort of secrets she hides.”

His gaze, and the way he spoke, reminded Emily vaguely of a snake.

“And the Royal Spymaster,” he continued.  “Once a heretic, always a heretic, isn’t that right Lord Attano?”

Emily was extremely thankful, in that moment, that they were all used to such accusations and took them without batting an eye.  Billie’s impenetrable mask didn’t shift even an inch, and her father merely lifted his bare left hand and wiggled his fingers, looking bored.

“Who are you?” Emily asked him.

The man rolled his eyes.  “I should think it obvious, your falsity.  I am - was - a witch in the service of Delilah.  It is my belief that her glorious reign will one day continue where it left off, where it would have continued had it not been for the fact that your murdered her in cold blood.”

Emily backhanded him.  The ‘crack’ rang out across the square, and she thought she saw her father flinch slightly.  A part of her remembered what the Outsider had told her - about how Corvo was unsure about her decisions - and that same part of her wanted to scream at him.  First she was being too lenient, and now she was being too harsh?  Which did he really prefer?

She shook herself before that train of thought could go any further.  This was not the time for such things.

“You’re right,” she said.  “That  _ was  _ obvious.  Tell me something I don’t already know.”

The man’s lip was bleeding.  He couldn’t reach it through his chains to wipe the blood off, so he settled for sneering at her.  His blood stained his teeth in a way that made it look like he’d just tried to bite someone’s arm off.

“What else do you not know?” he asked.  “You’re too late.  Most of the traps have already been sprung.  Those who were meant to die are already dead.  Not many are still needed, now.  No, not many.”

Emily’s blood ran cold.  “What traps?”

He laughed.  “Why, all over the city, Empress.  One per district.  Blood spilled under the teeth of rats.  Not one drop of life energy wasted.  We’ve done good work here.  After my death, only two more will be needed.”

Emily rounded on the Overseers.  “Get this man inside, now!”

Both of the Overseers faltered, their masked heads swiveling to look at the High Overseer as though asking for his permission.  Emily growled in impatience, and that seemed to startle them both into action.  The first went to release the chain and grab the man, while the other Overseer began playing the music box.

The sound hit Emily like a runaway carriage; it took everything she had not to claw her ears off, and she felt unpleasant goosebumps forming on her skin.  She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood so as to keep herself from making any noise, and noticed that Billie was similarly stiff.  The High Overseer had move forward and was issuing order to the two Overseers, not appearing to notice Emily’s discomfort.

That was good.  She felt like she was liable to vomit at any moment.  Her head throbbed, and her muscles shook with exertion.  Her mark burned hot enough that she was convinced, for a moment, that her flesh was melting.

The next few events happened in slow motion: she watched as the prisoner was forced up to his feet, and then saw a bloom of red on his throat, and realized what must have happened.

Before she could react, she was tackled to the ground for the second time in a week, while both her father and the High Overseer started shouting.  She struggled for a moment, somehow still able to move in spite of the music, but Billie refused to budge, keeping her weight on Emily until the music stopped.

Emily sucked in a breath of air, feeling most of the unpleasant sensations stop, apart from the urge to vomit.  Billie, breathing more harshly than she should’ve been, waiting for a few more tense seconds before she let Emily up, reaching out a hand to help her.  Emily noticed that Billie’s hand was shaking as much as hers was, but she didn’t comment on it.

High Overseer Lumis was seething.  “I apologize, your majesty,” he said, grimacing, “but it appears that the assassin got away.  I can send Overseers to pursue them, if you wish.”

Emily shook her head, aware that she needed to maintain her composure.  “There’s no point, High Overseer.  Most likely the assassin is long gone by now, and if that assassin is a witch, then we’re unlikely to find them using conventional means.  You’ve already provided me with a great deal of assistance in this matter.”

She glanced down at the corpse of the witch, and noticed that the scars on his arms had disappeared.  She grimaced.

“I think it best if I return to the Tower for the day,” she said.

Lumis nodded quickly, still looking somewhat embarrassed by his failure.  “Of course, your majesty.”  He turned back to the two Overseers, barking instructions at them and waving them on their way.  He looked back at Emily one more time before he followed, clasping his hands behind his back.

Emily sighed.  She still didn’t know what to make of him.

“Let’s go,” she murmured to Corvo and Billie.  “I’ve seen all of Holger Square that I need to today.”

The return trip to the palace was, thankfully, uneventful, and Emily summoned Captain Murrow as soon as they arrived.  She ordered her to search the city for apartments with ritualistic writings on the floors and walls, and to report back with how many she found and where she found each one.  Murrow raised an eyebrow at the orders, but otherwise didn’t question them.

Dinner was a quiet affair.  Emily didn’t have much of an appetite after the incident, but under Billie’s stare she forced herself to swallow down some soup.  She noticed that Billie was also eating slowly, and looking about as comfortable with it as Emily felt.

Corvo, who was also eating with them, ate more than both of them combined.  He looked sheepish.

“I’d forgotten they still had a few music boxes,” he said, sounding apologetic.  “I didn’t think they would actually be using one to deal with this guy.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Father,” Emily said, a wave of exhaustion coming over her.  “I should’ve remembered as well.  Especially since I’m the one who has the Void-damned Mark.”

“We’re not going to get anywhere if we start playing the blame game,” Billie said, giving them both pointed looks.  Emily ducked her head instinctively at Billie’s tone, noticing with some amusement that her father did the same.  

They spent the next half-hour talking quietly, gathering the facts: they knew that someone named Jin Aseranna (who might have just been killed in Holger Square) was likely responsible for the disappearance of Sevrina Alsam.  It wasn’t a stretch to imagine that Sevrina was already dead, but Emily tried to stay optimistic.  They knew that Jin (or witches connected to Jin) had set up rituals across the city for killing people and collecting their life energy.  They did not know what it would be used for.  

They still didn’t know what it had to do with Cal Norman being sent after Emily.  

Murrow returned shortly afterwards, a grim look on her face.  She was followed by four City Watchmen, two of whom had a young woman who was shackled in between them.  Emily raised an eyebrow as Murrow grabbed the woman by the shoulder, shoving her forward and forcing her to kneel in front of Emily.

“This woman surrendered to us at one of the sites you described,” she said.  “She claims to have information for you.”

The woman was short, and had black hair that hung limply around her pallid face.  She raised her eyes to Emily’s, and Emily drew in a sharp breath.

There was none of the fanaticism that had been present in the eyes of the man at Holger Square, or the woman she and Billie encountered during their nighttime excursion.  Instead, the only thing she saw in this woman was fear.

“Your majesty,” the woman said, swallowing.  “My name is Essen.  I - I don’t want anything in exchange.  I just...”

Emily waited, aware that sometimes silence was all the prompting needed for an interrogation.

“I can tell you everything,” Essen said.  “Everything that Jin’s planning.  And everything I know about her, although I don’t know that much.  I’m sorry.”

“This could be another trap,” Corvo said.

“It’s not!” Essen insisted, her voice rising in pitch.  “I swear!”

Emily wasn’t reassured.  Thus far, nothing had been as it seemed.  “Why are you willing to help us?”

Essen ducked her head, her shoulders rising and falling as she took deep breaths.  She looked like she was panicking, and for a moment Emily wondered if her father was right and this wasn’t yet another trap.  But then Essen lifted her head again, meeting Emily’s eyes.

“The price for what Jin was trying to do,” she whispered.  “It was too high for me.”

“A lot of your brothers and sisters didn’t feel the same.”

“Yeah, I know.”  Essen let out a shaky laugh.  “You... you know what those traps were, right?  Jin’s gathering life energy.  But you found her out, so she sent out new orders to us.  Said there was no time to wait for a victim to wander into the trap, so she ordered us to use our own lives instead.”

Ah.  So it was cowardice that had motivated her.

“I don’t want to die,” Essen whispered.

After a moment of silence, Emily said, “All right.  Tell me what you know.”

In a trembling voice, Essen began.  “Jin Aseranna, she was one of Delilah’s.  She’s Morlish, I think.  I’d never heard of her until after Delilah died, but she always talks like she was someone important.  She started to seek out people that... people like me.  People who wanted Delilah to stay, but had to hide that in order to survive.”

_ Until she asked you to die for her cause.   _ Out loud Emily said, “Do you know how many others she persuaded?”

Essen shook her head.  “She was always very secretive.  I don’t know where she lives - she’s the one who finds us, not the other way around.  But I think... she’s still capable of touching the Void, somehow.  But I don’t think she’s Marked.  I’ve never seen one on her, and she keeps her hands bare.”

“What is she trying to do?”

“She wants to bring Delilah back to life.”

Emily ignored the way everyone else in the room flinched at that.  A memory came to her, unbidden, as she remembered the look of disbelief on Delilah’s face as she sank her folding blade into her jugular.  She’d then twisted her head hard enough that her neck snapped, and Emily had spent the next five minutes staring at her corpse, making sure it wouldn’t rise from the ground.

Evidently, she shouldn’t have stopped watching.

“Is that possible?” she asked Essen.

She shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I didn’t think so.  But if there’s anyone who can make you believe that it is, it’s Jin.  She has this... thing about her.”

Essen fell silent after that, prompting Emily to ask, “Is that all?”

“Yes, that’s all I know.”  Essen swallowed.  “I... she never told me the specifics of the ritual for bringing Delilah back, only that I would play a part of it.”

_ How many lives is Jin willing to exchange for one? _ Emily wondered.

Murrow stepped forward, reporting that 10 sites had been found, and that all appeared to have already been used.  None of them were in the same district.

Emily closed her eyes, breathing out.  So, the Delilah fanatic hadn’t been lying.  They really were too late.  Somehow, she hadn’t acted fast enough.  In spite of the fact that she devoted many sleepless nights to ensuring that the city was safe, in spite of the fact that she insisted on the City Council for this very purpose - 

Somehow, she kept failing.

* * *

 

After her father had left to escort Essen to Coldridge, Emily ended up retiring to her quarters in frustration, vowing to get some paperwork done before she went to bed for the night.  She knew that Billie was in the Royal Protector quarters, but as much as Emily wanted to have that talk with her, she knew that this wasn’t the best time for that.

There was a knock on the door, and it opened, revealing that her father had returned.  He sent her a soft smile as he closed it behind him.

“Murrow went back out to continue the search,” he said.

He hovered awkwardly near the door, and seemed like he wanted to say something else before he shook his head and turned away.

“Stay a moment, Father,” she said.  Her father hesitated in the doorway, then nodded, closing it behind him and seating himself in the chair across from her desk.  Emily put down her pen and folded her hands in front of her, steeling herself for what she was about to say.

“I want you to start telling me,” she said.  “If you have doubts.”

Her father’s face creased into a frown.  “Emily - “

“Father, please,” she interrupted.  “I  _ know  _ you have them.  The Outsider told me as much.”

He sighed.  “The Outsider should learn to mind his own business.”

Emily didn’t have the patience to point out how laughable  _ that  _ idea was.  “That isn’t the point, Father.  The point is, if you have doubts, you should tell me.  I feel that I deserve to at least know about them, even if I may not agree with them.”

Corvo was silent for a long moment.  

“Emily,” he began, “I... yes, I have doubts.  Sometimes.  But I chose not to make them known because you... you’ve changed.  Everything you went through in Karnaca changed you, irrevocably.  You came back with a shadow behind your eyes and blood on your hands, but when you took charge of the cleanup of Dunwall I realized that you’d grown wiser, too.  And I realized that it wasn’t my place to question you.  You’re old enough, now, that I could be the one in the wrong.”

Emily sent him a small, tired smile.  “I appreciate that, Father,” she said.  “But if I’m wise, then that means I can acknowledge that I still have faults.  You may not always be wrong, Father.”

“I was wrong about Billie.”

“Yes, you were.  But... you weren’t entirely wrong about the witches.”

She didn’t know how he felt about her decision regarding them back then.  She knew now.

Her father looked down at his hands.  “But I wasn’t right, either.  The situation was always a lot more complicated than we were willing to admit.  I think... I think it’s admirable.  That you’re still able to see things in a better light, even though you’ve...”

He trailed off before he could say ‘killed people’, but Emily knew.  She grimaced, suddenly wishing she kept a stash of alcohol in her rooms, like Billie did in hers.  She was about to go so far as to ask Billie if they could break into her stash when there was a knock at her.

She and her father exchanged glances.  “Enter,” Emily called.

An irritated-looking guard entered the room, bowing to her.  “Begging your pardon, your majesty,” he said.  “But this woman insisted on seeing you - wouldn’t let me leave her at the gate.  I apologize for the security risk - “

“Stand aside,” came an angry voice, and Emily straightened.  

“Let her through,” she ordered.  “She’s an acquaintance.”

The guard stepped aside, letting Ysannifer into the room, before he bowed again and exited, shutting the door behind him.  It was Emily’s first time seeing Ysannifer look anything close to afraid; she’d always thought of Ysannifer as the type who would rather be angry than afraid.  

“Emily Kaldwin,” she said.  “If your buffoon of a guard had been quicker - “

“What did you expect, Ysannifer?” Emily asked.  “If you’re in such a hurry, then tell me what you came here for.”

Ysannifer collected herself, taking a deep breath.  “It’s Talsin,” she finally said.  “She’s gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the return of the Stone Cold Bitch (aka Ysannifer).


	6. Part VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the wait on this one. I just moved, and it's been... hard for me to be motivated about this stuff at the moment. Thanks for your patience. Hope you like it!

“She went out to get food earlier today,” Ysannifer said, staring down at the cup of tea she held.  “She said she expected to be back in an hour.  When she didn’t come back for three, we knew there had to be something wrong.”

They’d moved to Emily’s study instead of her quarters.  Corvo and Billie were in the room as well, both listening silently to Ysannifer’s story while Emily occasionally asked questions.  Emily sat behind the desk, with Ysannifer taking the chair in front of it.

“You’re sure she just didn’t - “ Emily began.

Ysannifer stiffened in her seat.  “If you’re about to say that she got distracted, or wandered off, then don’t bother.  Talsin might be 17, but I expect that kind of lollygagging behavior from Marta, or perhaps even Della.  But not Talsin.”

“You think Jin took her too,” Emily deduced.  

She remembered what the man who claimed to be Jin had said: that only two more deaths were required.  Her heart plummeted into her stomach, as Ysannifer’s statement was a stark reminder of just how young Talsin was, even compared with the rest of her ex-witch compatriots.  

Ysannifer let out a controlled exhale.  “Signs are certainly pointing that way.  Your majesty, I appreciate all you’ve done in looking for Sevrina, but I hope there’s some way you can speed up the process?”

On reflex, Emily activated her Dark Vision, noting that Ysannifer didn’t flinch at the sight (Billie once told her that her eyes turned black).  There were no audiographs hidden in the room, so no one was attempting to listen in to her conversations.

“I’m not a witch, Ysannifer,” she said quietly.  “I don’t... know of any rituals that might help track down Talsin.  I can’t just take a lock of her hair and use it to track her to her location - “

“You can’t, it’s true,” Ysannifer replied.  “But we can.  Or at least, we can guide you through the process, since you’re the one with the magic.”

“You realize what you’re asking her to do?” Corvo said, before Emily could reply.  “You’re asking Emily to commit heresy.  You realize that if the Abbey even gets the slightest wind of this - “

Loudly, Ysannifer said, “I didn’t know that the Royal Spymaster was so eager for his daughter to be a coward.”

“We don’t  _ have  _ to throw in with you,” Billie said, a warning in her voice.  “You are, after all, former traitors.  Your blatant manipulation aside - “

“I’ll do it,” Emily said.

“No, you won’t,” Billie countered, turning her glare on Emily.  “Because I will.”

For a few moments, Emily was stunned speechless.  She stared at Billie, aware that Ysannifer had also turned and was giving Billie a considering look.  There was a healthy amount of skepticism on her face, however.

“You?” she asked.  “You’re not Marked.”

Billie inclined her head, then (without giving any warning) pulled herself across the room with a tendril of shadow.  The move made both Corvo and Ysannifer jump, staring wide-eyed at Billie, who just folded her arms and stared right back.  

Her father glanced back at Emily.  “Did you...?”

Emily just nodded.  She had a feeling that explaining that it wasn’t on purpose wasn’t a good idea in front of Ysannifer, who already seemed skeptical of Billie’s ability to perform the ritual.  Ysannifer, meanwhile, didn’t pay any attention to the exchange, her expression becoming more thoughtful as she regarded Billie.  

“Interesting,” she finally said, and for a moment Emily was reminded of the Outsider.  “That display proves that you’re connected to the Void, so you should be able to enact the ritual we’d need.  It’ll be easy enough to retrieve Talsin’s hair from her hairbrush, but we’ll need a few other things as well.  You should come with me so that we can ask Marta for the details.”

Billie nodded.

Emily was out of her chair before she could stop herself, moving around the desk and jerking her head in the direction of the door while making eye contact with Billie.  Billie followed her out into the hall, where there was only one guard who was far enough away that they wouldn’t be overheard.

“Are you sure about this?” Emily asked.

“No,” Billie answered, snorting.  “But I’m the Royal Protector.  Better I get charged with heresy than you.”

“I’d much prefer if neither of us got charged with heresy, thanks,” Emily muttered.  “I’m still coming with you.”  When Billie opened her mouth as though to protest, she continued with, “I’ll stay outside, on the roof.  That way I can keep a lookout, and I won’t be caught so easily if the Abbey somehow busts us.”

Billie narrowed her eyes at her.  “And so that you can find out where Talsin is as soon as we do?”

“...that might be part of it.”

Billie sighed.  “There’s no convincing you, is there?”

“Let me think about that... no.”

Billie grumbled something under her breath.  Emily grabbed her hand and squeezed, hoping to provide reassurance with contact instead of words.  The Mark on her hand warmed, as though aware of her proximity to the person she’d formed an Arcane Bond with.

“Emily,” Billie murmured, suddenly looking pained.  

“I’ll be careful,” Emily promised.  “As long as you promise to be careful, too.  We still have to have that talk, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.”  Billie gave her one of the few real smiles that Emily saw from her.  “I’ll be careful.”

Emily gave her a firm nod, letting go of her hand reluctantly and heading back inside her office.  Corvo and Ysannifer both looked extremely discomfited by the other’s presence, apparently playing a game of ‘let’s do our very best not to look at one another’.  Emily guessed that Ysannifer’s comment about cowardice had hit harder than she’d thought.

“All right,” she said, drawing their attention back to her.  “Ysannifer, leave the Tower and head back to your house in the Tailors’ District.  Billie will meet you there.”

Ysannifer gave a terse nod.  She stood and swept out of the room without waiting for a real dismissal, her heeled boots clacking against the wood.  Emily shot a helpless shrug at Billie, who merely shook her head.

“She seems somewhat hostile for someone who claims not to be loyal to Delilah,” Corvo observed.

“That’s why I trust her,” Emily admitted, though she couldn’t deny that Ysannifer continued to make her feel uneasy.  She looked at Billie.  “It’s still early.  We’ll have to be careful about not being seen when we go to the Tailors’ District.”

Her father frowned.  “You’re going too?”

“This is still my responsibility.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

Corvo was clutching his left hand in his right.  Emily knew what he was thinking.  

“Father,” she said.  “Objectively speaking, there’s... not a whole lot you can do.”

Emily knew that there were plenty of reasons why she should stay behind.  The rumors about the Empress’ nighttime excursions still hadn’t died down, and they were only exacerbated by her more... hands-on approach in gathering information and trying to act as her own enforcer.  At the same time, however, she knew that there was no one else equipped to deal with this kind of enemy - at least, no one she could trust.

Her father bowed his head.  “I know,” he murmured.  “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she replied.  “You’ve done plenty already.  Now you just have to hold down the fort while we’re gone.  I believe you have some experience with that?”

Her father smirked.  “Are you referring to when you were twelve, or when you were 22?”

“Take your pick.”  Emily kissed him on the cheek.  She then nodded at Billie.  “Let’s get moving.”

* * *

 

They were only able to carry two vials of Addermire solution each, so they had to moderate their use of Far Reach as they made their way towards the Tailors’ District.  In order to move quickly, they decided to take turns using the ability; the other would have to be carried across gaps.

Emily found out, for the first time, what Far Reach was like when she wasn’t in control.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” she gasped out, keeping her dinner in through sheer force of will.

“Yeah,” Billie agreed.

By the time they arrived at Ysannifer’s house, Emily was convinced that if she didn’t sit down and do some deep breathing exercises, she really  _ was  _ going to throw up.  She settled for crouching instead, staying up on the roof while Billie pulled herself to the ground and entered the house.

She activated her Vision, knowing that it would enable her to hear most of what was going on in the house, as well as keep a lookout for anyone from the Abbey.  She watched as Ysannifer greeted Billie, escorting her upstairs to the bedroom that Emily had found herself in when she had been in the house the first time.  Two other figures were in the bedroom already - a hunched silhouette that Emily assumed was Della and another that was moving around the room and appeared to be painting the floor while she muttered to herself.

“Della, Marta,” Ysannifer greeted.  “I couldn’t get the Empress, but her bodyguard has been Void-touched.”

“That will do,” came a terse, accented voice that Emily could only assume was Marta.  One of the Tyvian sisters.  “Mariya and Darren are out, gathering the rest of what we need.  A rat’s skull and unmarked whalebone.”

“Before you get pissy about sending them off,” Della added, “we need the kind of whalebone used for runes, not bone charms, so we can’t use any of Sevrina’s supplies.”

“I told them to stay together,” Marta said.  “If that’s any consolation.”

“It isn’t,” Ysannifer replied, “but nice try.”

“Always so difficult,” muttered Marta.  Emily watched her silhouette point at the center of the room.  “You - stand there.  You will need something of yours that’s important to you.  I hope Ysannifer had the foresight to tell you beforehand?”

Billie moved into the position that Marta had directed her to without complaint.  “She didn’t, but I have bone charms hidden in my coat.  Would those work?”

“Yes, yes, one of those should be just fine.  Della, get out of the way!”

“Oh let me draw it,” snapped Della, snatching something from Marta’s hands.  “I know this part well enough.  I’m not old enough that my memory’s started to fail me just yet.”

“You wouldn’t help me before, but suddenly now that you have to  _ move  _ you -”

“Enough!” snapped Ysannifer.  “Focus.”

Her tone was sharp enough that both of the other women fell silent.  Della now appeared to be the one painting on the floor, her movements smoother and more careful than Marta’s had been, while Marta picked her way across the room until she was standing in one corner.  

Gradually, Emily’s nausea abated, leaving her feeling hungry and tired.  She really needed to start bringing snacks on these nighttime excursions.  

Ten minutes later, two figures coming down the street made her snap into alertness, but she relaxed when she saw that it was merely Darren and Mariya, both of whom were walking slightly faster than one might after running an errand, but she could understand the need for urgency.  They let themselves in, hurrying upstairs and exchanging quick greetings with the others.  

“Not the Empress?” said Mariya, her accent just as pronounced as her sister’s.  “I thought her bodyguard was unmarked.”

Emily watched Marta wave a hand.  “They’re bonded.  It’ll work.”

Someone made a sharp intake of breath, though Emily couldn’t tell who it was.  She could practically see the thought flash through all their heads, could almost hear the gears click in their brains as they inevitably thought of Delilah.

That, at least, was one thing she shared in common with this group of ex-witches: the shadow of Delilah would always hang over them.

“At any rate, we’re ready,” Marta announced, suddenly herding everyone out of the room except Billie.  “We can’t be near the pattern on the floor, one of us might interfere.”

Emily watched as four of the silhouettes allowed themselves to be pushed out into the hallway, leaving only Marta and Billie in the room.  Marta moved over to Billie, and made some motions like she was handing things to Billie.  Emily guessed that they were the rat’s skull and the unmarked whalebone.

“What do I need to do?” Billie asked.  She sounded calm.

Marta launched into her explanation with an intensity that reminded Emily of Sokolov.  “You know how to reach out for the Void, yes?  We have given you matches.  Talsin’s hair must be placed on the rat’s skull, and then you light the hair with the match.  While it burns, you focus on the Void.  Draw on it, pull it through the rat’s skull and then through the bone charm you’ve chosen.  As soon as something appears on the whalebone, which you should be holding in your other hand, then you stop.  Let go of the Void.  Too much can - “

“Drive me mad,” Billie finished.  “I know.”

There was a pause, and then Emily flinched when she saw Marta grab Billie’s arm.  “Please,” she begged, her voice ragged.  “ _ Please _ , we can’t - we can’t lose Talsin.  She’s the best of us.”

_ You won’t,  _ Emily wanted to promise, but if there was one thing she learned during those three months in Karnaca, it was that she shouldn’t make promises that she might not be able to keep.  She watched as Billie nodded in response, which seemed to be enough assurance for Marta, because the other woman left the room.

Emily turned her attention to the streets once more, keeping one eye on Billie.  It didn’t take long before she felt the whispers and the pull that she associated with the Void; they were more intoxicating than they were when she was in proximity to runes or bone charms.  A prickle of uneasiness went through her at the thought of Billie, channeling that power through her.  The temptation to keep ahold of the Void would be strong.

The whispers only grew louder, though, and Emily was tempted to clap her hands over her ears (though that would do her no good).  The sound cut off abruptly, allowing her to exhale a breath of air that she didn’t know she’d been holding.  She thought she heard a gasp from Billie, and for a moment she was tempted to climb in through the window.

The five orange silhouettes crowded back into the room.

“The symbols on the bone will only have meaning to you, and you alone,” Marta said.  “Do you know where she is?”

“I...”  Emily flinched.  There had only been one other time when she had heard Billie this unsteady.  “I... she’s in the sewers.  I  _ know  _ where, but...”

One of the silhouettes sat down heavily.  “She’s alive,” they whispered - Darren.  “Talsin’s still alive.”

“Then I need to get there,” Billie said, some of the strength returning to her voice.  “Fast.”

“ _ You _ need to get there?”  That was Ysannifer.  “You think we’re not going?”

“I  _ know _ you’re not going.”

There was a pause, as though everyone in the room was holding their breath, then one of the others grabbed for Billie.  Billie avoided them deftly, somersaulting through two more outstretched hands and making it to the open window.  Emily didn’t think twice, hurrying over to the edge and using Far Reach to pull Billie up onto the roof with her.  A shout from Ysannifer echoed from below them.

“Come on,” Billie said, already running across the roof.  

They both made sure they were at least a block away from the house before they paused, each gulping down a vial of Addermire solution.  They continued on from there, with Billie in the lead and Emily following.  Neither of them stopped for conversation, though Emily knew that something strange had happened while Billie performed the ritual.  

Something seemed to hang heavily over the city as they traveled, though it could very well have been Emily’s imagination.  She was tense with anticipation, and almost sick at the thought that they might be too late to save Talsin, but she did her best to push that aside in favor of focusing on her next Far Reach.

Eventually, she recognized the area that they found themselves in, and felt a sense of oppression for an entirely different reason.

The Hound Pits Pub emerged out of the darkness, the windows darkened by the absence of any patronage.  Standing dark against the light of the moon was the tower, a place that Emily wished selfishly she could demolish, even as she paused beneath its shadow.  Piero’s workshop was just as silent, though five years ago it had been converted into an extra seating area for the pub.

“Emily,” called Billie.

Emily shook herself, and saw that Billie was standing next to a hatch in the ground.  As she approached, she asked, “Are we getting close?”

“Not as close as I’d like,” Billie answered, frowning.  “But this is the way we’re supposed to go.”

As Emily followed Billie down into the sewers, she couldn’t help but think of her father, traversing through these same sewers in an attempt to get to her after the Loyalists’ betrayal.  Had he had the same sense of urgency - the same need to keep on moving, no matter how tired he might have felt?  

The sewers were almost pitch dark, and silent, and Emily activated her Vision out of habit more than anything else.  It might have made for slower going, but the ritual seemed to temporarily allow Billie to navigate the darkness without any aid.

They jogged for what seemed to be ages, turning left, then right, then right again, and so on until Emily lost track of where they were in relation to the city above.  Occasionally they came across old campsites, where the less fortunate had been living, but thankfully there were no corpses to be found.  

Eventually, Billie lead them through an offshoot - a narrow tunnel that seemed even older than the rest of the sewers.  As they moved further through it, she felt it again: the hum in her bones, and the whispers in her ears, that indicated that the Void was calling out somewhere nearby.  Ahead of her, she saw Billie shudder visibly, and she resisted the urge to reach out and grab her shoulder.

Emily was finally able to stop using her Vision when she realized that there was a dim light coming from up ahead, and she slowed her footsteps until she was able to move silently.  Ahead of her, Billie did the same, until they were each on one side of the tunnel mouth, peering out at something that Emily had only ever heard rumors about, but never knew existed.

The sewer opened into a large cave, in one part of which was a house-like structure, built out of pipes and mismatched pieces of wood.  Protruding from the ground were skeletons of whales.  The song of the Void was almost unbearable now, and Emily looked around and realized that the walls of the cave were, again, covered in whale oil.  The oil seemed to pulsate in time with the song.

Emily had only heard rumors about the witch known as Granny Rags, and how she had a lair hidden down in the sewers.  Among those rumors was one in which her father had confronted Granny Rags and defeated her once and for all.  Though she had always known that every rumor held a grain of truth, she had never believed she would one day stand in the witch’s lair herself.

Emily looked at Billie.  Billie’s eyes flicked to the top of the ‘house’, then back towards Emily.  Emily nodded.

As one, they reached for the Void and pulled themselves atop it, getting a better look at their surroundings.  Emily stared at what looked like a lump on one of the raised platforms of rock on the side, until said lump moved.

She nearly gasped.

The long, matted brown hair was framing a face that was thinned by starvation, and almost too pale to be recognizable, but it was undoubtedly Sevrina Alsam.  She didn’t appear to notice the two newcomers to the room, and now that Emily looked more closely she realized that Sevrina was chained in a device similar to what the Overseers used in Holger Square.  The lines on her face were more accentuated, and there was dirt smeared on her face and arms.  She was wearing a dark gray shift, and appeared to be barefoot.  

Emily hadn’t thought to hope that Sevrina might still be alive, but if Sevrina was alive...

She looked at the other platform in the room, and nearly shouted in triumph.  There, similarly chained but looking significantly healthier, was Talsin.

Circling around her, however, was a third woman - one that Emily did not recognize.  At a distance, it was almost impossible to tell what age she was - from one angle she looked ancient, but from another she appeared to be Emily’s age.  Her hair was white, and only came down to her chin, and she appeared to be about Talsin’s height.  Another pass revealed that her eyes were blue.

_ Morlish, _ Emily thought, confirming what Essen had told her.

Jin Aseranna circled Talsin one more time, then stopped in front of her and spoke.

“You could be enough,” she said.  “I might be able to make this work with you and the other traitor.”

“You’re the real traitor!” spat Talsin.  “Just wait until Ysannifer finds you - “

“Ysannifer Telamono?”  Jin barked out a harsh laugh, gripping Talsin by her chin.  “Of the two of us, which retains some connection to the Void?  Ysannifer was never very high up among Delilah’s ranks.  Neither were you, but your aptitude is... somewhat strong.  And yet you never tried to climb the ladder.”

Chains clinked as Talsin struggled to free herself.  “How do you know all this?” she asked.  “I don’t  _ know  _ you.  Ysannifer doesn’t know you either!  Sevrina!”  Her tone turned pleading, and Emily realized that she was yelling for the woman across the cavern.  “Sevrina, how do you know her?”

Jin waved a dismissive hand.  “It was my business to know you all.  What, you think that Mistress Delilah vetted all of the people who joined her coven personally?  Her majesty had little time for such matters.”

She leaned down, her face within an inch of Talsin’s.  “Little Talsin Beitter.  Not even an adult.  Just a girl who was the daughter of a woodcarver, until the day he died.  I confess, I never could figure out why you wanted to join the coven.”

Talsin sniffed.  “Why in the Void would I tell  _ you _ ?”

There was a crack as Jin’s palm met Talsin’s cheek.  Emily didn’t miss the manic gleam in Jin’s eye.  “Indulge my curiosity, girl.”

“No!”

Emily had had enough.  She signaled for Billie to stay put, ignoring Billie’s frustrated hiss as she pulled herself down to the ground.  Talsin’s eyes went to her immediately, widening in surprise.  Jin whipped around a moment later, allowing Emily to take in the robes she wore.  They were the garb of a woman in the Oracular Order.

“Emily Kaldwin,” Jin Aseranna said, a smile slowly appearing on her face.  “What a pleasant surprise.  I should clarify - it’s a surprise that Ysannifer would go to you for help.  She expressed an  _ extreme  _ dislike of the Kaldwin family when I looked into her history.”

“You’re Jin Aseranna,” Emily replied.  At the other woman’s nod, she continued.  “Let Talsin and Sevrina go.  You’re outmatched here.”

“Why?” Jin asked, smirking.  “Because of the Mark on your hand?  Oh, I’m sure it affords you some advantages.  However - “

She pulled something out of her pocket - a small box, with a crank on the side.  Emily realized what it had to be, and pulled out her crossbow as quickly as she could, taking aim and firing in order to knock the thing out of Jin’s hands.

Too slow.

The music played, and her entire body rebelled; the bolt went wide, embedding itself in the cave wall instead, and Emily could do little more than press her hands over her ears and try not to fall over.  She could see Jin approaching her, holding a chain that Emily could’ve sworn she didn’t have before, and saw Talsin struggling where she was being held down.

She railed against her own helplessness, her fury not enough to stop Jin from grabbing both her hands and winding the chain around her wrists.  She could do nothing while Jin pulled her over next to Talsin.  When the music finally stopped, she almost collapsed, wanting to curl up into the fetal position and finding that she couldn’t, because she was chained down in the same spot that Talsin had been.

“She’s more potent anyway- especially because the ritual requires our Empress’ murderer.  Although I just needed her to die - it didn’t have to be here,” Jin mused.

“You sent Cal Norman,” Emily gasped out, gritting her teeth through the echoes of pain.

“Of course I did, I wasn’t about to dirty my hands needlessly,” sniffed Jin, before looking at a now-free Talsin.  “Go on, then.  I’m sure Telamono is worried about you.”

Talsin’s jaw worked as she struggled with her words, and Emily realized that the girl was shaking with fury.  Before she could say anything, however, another voice spoke up.

“Go... Talsin.  Get out of here.”

The broken rasp was barely recognizable as a woman’s voice, but when Emily looked across the room it was to see that Sevrina Alsam had raised her head, her eyes pleading as she stared at Talsin.  It was enough for Emily to realize that, however Sevrina had been treated during her kidnapping, she hadn’t lost all of herself.

Talsin bit her lip, her hands still shaking, before she let out a hoarse yell and threw herself at Jin.

“No!” Emily and Sevrina both shouted.  She watched, then tried to shift into Shadow Walk, only to find that she was still her mana reserves were still exhausted by the miniature music box.

Talsin wasn’t a fighter.  She aimed a clumsy punch at Jin, who deftly sidestepped then unsheathed a knife she kept at her hip.  For a moment, all Emily could see was Daud, ramming his sword through her mother while she was helpless, but instead of stabbing Talsin, Jin slammed the hilt into the side of Talsin’s head.

Talsin crumpled to the ground, unmoving.  Sevrina started shouting hoarse curse words that Emily didn’t recognize, but sounded like a mix of Tyvian and Serkonan.  

Jin ignored her.  “She’ll receive her punishment when the ritual is over,” she said dismissively, sheathing her sword.  “A quick death is too easy for traitors.”

She moved over to the makeshift house, disappearing inside of it.  Emily looked up at the top, but couldn’t see Billie any longer.  She searched the cave carefully, activating her vision until she spotted Billie’s silhouette creeping along behind the house.  Emily stared, wondering why her movement was so slow, until she realized that Billie had to stop every few seconds as though to catch her breath.

Somehow, the music had affected Billie more than it had affected Emily.

For a moment, her concern was almost enough to override her promise.  She knew that this counted as an emergency, but there was little point in seeing through Billie’s eyes apart from trying to figure out how she was - and it was obvious just from watching her that she was weakened by the music box, just as Emily was.  Emily closed her eyes, tempted to reach for the feeling that she knew was there, but when she opened them again her sight was still her own.

_ Not enough of an emergency for that,  _ she thought.   _ I trust her. _

Her blood began to pound in her ears as Jin returned from the house, carrying what looked like an urn.  She opened it and tipped the ashes into a circle that was drawn in the middle of one of the whale chest cavities.  She then lifted the knife once more, and Emily finally recognized it.

Her heart climbed into her throat as Jin turned towards Sevrina.  The hum of the Void was back, and even louder than before, as though it recognized the knife that Jin held.  Sevrina seemed to recognize it as well, because she shifted in place, looking terrified for the first time.

“You can’t use that,” Emily called, a last-ditch attempt to talk reason.  “You don’t know what’ll happen.”

Jin laughed.  “Emily, the entire reason I’m using it is because I know  _ exactly  _ what will happen.”

“What do you  _ want _ ?” Emily cried, trying to play for time, but Jin ignored her.  She wasn’t about to let that deter her, knowing that she had to keep trying to stall as best as she could.

“You think that if resurrection was really possible I wouldn’t have used it by now?”

Jin stopped.  She turned slightly, angling her head just enough to meet Emily’s eyes with her own.

“What would you know of the arts?” Jin asked, sounding dismissive.  “You haven’t exactly studied them.”

“That’s true,” Emily agreed, being careful to not look at Billie.  “But I have spoken with the Outsider.  I don’t think you have - you’ve had to borrow magic in order to get any of this to come close to working.”

Jin’s eyes narrowed, and she turned to face Emily fully.  “All of our power was borrowed, Emily Kaldwin.  Just because the Void-damned Overseers never realized the true potential of the Ancient Music - “

“You can’t bring someone back from the dead,” Emily said.  “I’ve asked  _ him _ .  He laughed in my face.”

It wasn’t strictly true, but it was what Emily imagined would be likely to happen if she did ask such a question.

Jin sighed.  “This just proves that you still lack the ambition that the ruler of the Isles needs.  Delilah will make this right.”

“You’re so desperate to bring her back,” Emily said.  “Who were you to her?”

Before Jin could answer, a weak, raspy laugh came from behind her.  

“Nobody,” gasped out Sevrina, her grin showing her teeth.  “She was nobody to Delilah.  The one who kept the books.  The finances.  The one who actually gave some semblance of order to Delilah’s reign, and Delilah never looked at her twice.”

Jin all but snarled, whirling around and marching up to Sevrina, placing the blade at the other woman’s throat.  “Say that again,  _ old friend _ .”

“The money,” Emily said, the pieces coming together in her mind.  “That was you - you’re the reason the money was missing.  You took it to finance your insane resurrection scheme.”

Jin ignored her again, her attention completely on Sevrina.  

“She never would have loved you,” Sevrina panted.  “She only ever had eyes for that bitch Breanna - “

The Void song was almost drowning out the conversation now, and Emily could hear the whispers more clearly as the knife called out for blood.  She struggled furiously against the chains holding her in place, and some part of her just knew that this was the moment that Jin would slice Sevrina’s throat -

A shadow slammed into Jin’s side, knocking her over and pinning her to the ground.  Jin let out a shout, kicking at the shadow, but it hoisted her up above the ground, holding her in the air.  The knife tumbled out of her grasp and onto the cave floor, but she somehow managed to get ahold of the music box.

“Watch out!” Emily shouted, but the music cut her off.

A groan escaped her, and this time she did vomit, the sick splattering the stones in front of her.  The shadows that had been holding Jin down coalesced into Billie, who (by some miracle) managed to remain upright and draw her own blade.  She swiped blindly, knocking the music box from Jin’s grip, and then slammed her heel down on it, breaking it (hopefully for good).  

The absence of the box wasn’t quite enough.  Jin appeared to be unaffected by it, and was advancing on Billie, her attacks with her short sword precise and deadly.  Billie was barely managing to block, and looked about as sick to her stomach as Emily felt.  Emily’s gaze landed on the knife that was on the floor, and she knew that she could use Far Reach to get it into her hand, but she cursed.  She would need to take another Addermire solution before she could call on the Void again.

She could still only watch, helplessly, as Billie fought was what clearly a losing battle.  Her movements were too sluggish, and she even seemed like she was struggling to stand.  Jin, on the other hand, was fighting with a relentless style that Emily recognized as being the same way that Delilah had fought her.  

Jin’s next strike knocked the sword from Billie’s grasp, and Emily screamed when she saw Jin turn the movement into a thrust.

_ Her mother didn’t have time to move, as the man in red shoved a sword into her belly. _

_ Meagan was startled into laughter at Emily’s half-assed attempt at a joke, looking surprised at her own mirth. _

_ “You helped Daud kill my mother.”  Each word was a crack in her heart. _

_ “That will be all, Captain Mayhew.” _

_ Not again, not again, not again - _

Time seemed to stop.

Jin’s sword was barely an inch from Billie’s sternum, and her mouth was twisted into a snarl.  Emily stared, wondering if she’d somehow gained the ability to stop time, until Billie stumbled away from Jin, a look of relief and surprise on her face.  She hurried over to Emily, pulling the lever that would release Emily from her shackles.

As much as Emily wanted to collapse to the ground in relief, she instead threw the chains aside and flung herself at Billie, wrapping her arms around her and burying her face in Billie’s shoulder.  Her heart was still pounding, and she choked back a sob, bunching her hands in the fabric of Billie’s coat.

“Don’t,” she gasped out.  “Don’t do that.  Don’t.”

She realized that Billie’s arms were around her, too, and felt Billie’s shaky laugh rumble through her.

“Yeah, well,” she said.  “Now you know how I felt.  Asshole.  What were you  _ thinking _ ?”

Emily gave a helpless shrug.

Reluctantly, she pulled away from Billie.  There was a cut on Billie’s arm, but other than that she seemed more exhausted than anything else.  Emily made a mental note to ask her about why the Void seemed to affect her so much, and looked back at where Jin was still frozen in place.

“How - ?”

And then she saw it.

Standing a few feet away, a hand outstretched towards Jin - a  _ Marked  _ hand - was Talsin.  She was breathing heavily, and her Mark seemed to pulsate orange, but other than that she seemed none the worse for wear in spite of the blow to her head.  

Talsin looked at Emily.  “She’s not going to hurt anyone else.  Not ever again.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Emily jerked her gaze away from Talsin to the entrance to the cave, where Ysannifer and the other former witches were emerging.  Each of them had a grim look on their face as they regarded Jin Aseranna, who was still frozen in place.  Marta and Mariya hurried over to release Sevrina, who sagged in their grasp, while Ysannifer, Della and Darren surrounded Jin.

Emily frowned.  “Should we...?” she murmured, but Billie shook her head.

Ysannifer came to a stop in front of Jin.  She pulled a knife from her belt, looking up at Talsin, who met her gaze and nodded.  

Ysannifer drew the blade across the flesh of Jin’s arm, carving a symbol that Emily didn’t recognize into her bicep.  Emily thought she saw fear flash in Jin’s eyes, and thought that she saw her twitch slightly, as though struggling against Talsin’s grip.  Emily could feel nothing but the same grimness that the others were displaying.

“We take care of our own,” Ysannifer said, and plunged the knife into Jin’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmm whatcha saayyyy


	7. Part VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, things begin to wind down. Sorry for the lateness, I've been really busy this past week.
> 
> AKA: last chapter! Thanks to everyone who lent their support!

 

“So,” the Outsider said.  “Somehow, in the end, you managed to make it work.”

Emily blinked.  This trip to the Void hadn’t involved the usual, slow realization that she wasn’t actually in her bedroom in Dunwall Tower.  In fact, it seemed more like she’d been plopped down in front of the Outsider in the middle of a conversation.  One that she didn’t know the topic of.

“Make what work?” she asked.

“Jin Aseranna,” the Outsider said.  “Sevrina Alsam.  Her little group of witches, and how their bid for survival led to something far more.  None of which would have been possible, if it weren’t for you.”

Emily frowned at him.  “You Marked Talsin.”

A delighted smile lit up his face.  “Ah yes, Talsin Beitter.  A young woman without ulterior motives.  The only person who joined Delilah’s coven out of a desire to help others over herself.  For someone so young, she walked straight into the lion’s den with dreams that others would call naive, and made her mark on others without even holding the power that you and Delilah held.  Just imagine what she’ll be able to do, now that she  _ does  _ have that power.”

Emily folded her arms.  “I would’ve thought, if you chose any of them, it would’ve been Sevrina, or Ysannifer.”

The Outsider shrugged.  “Sevrina’s ambition might be admirable to some, but to me she is merely predictable.  As for Ysannifer Telamono, she is someone whom, I suspect, might reject my Mark.  But Talsin?  Who would’ve expected her to try to fight back against Jin Aseranna?”

“She knew she couldn’t win,” Emily deduced.  “And you knew it, too.  That’s why you gave her the tools she needed.”

“I can be charitable, when the occasion calls for it.”

Emily wasn’t so sure that being Marked could be seen as charity - but then, she had accepted his power with little hesitation.  She had only started to realize, later, after she took Jindosh’s life, that there was no going back from that.  Being Marked by the Outsider was akin to falling off a cliff.

“Ah, but we can’t forget about you, now can we, Empress?”  The Outsider started to pace in front of her.  “You continue to refuse to allow anyone to dictate your decisions for you.  You continue to take a more... hands-on approach to ruling, and there is good coming of that.  You’re no longer half-blind to the witches, but you’re still half-blind to the bigger picture.”

“And you’re not going to tell me what that is.”

The Outsider chuckled.  “Now  _ that  _ wouldn’t be very exciting, would it?”

Emily woke up.

* * *

 

“All I’m saying is that you can’t do that again,” Billie explained.  “You’re the Empress, and you’re what’s keeping the Empire together right now, and I think we both know that your life needs to be the priority.”

Emily sighed.  “I know,” she replied.  “It was reckless, and stupid.  I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Billie said.  “Just... keep that in mind.”

They were making their way towards Emily’s study, talking in low voices as they passed by members of the palace staff.  It was a cooler day in Dunwall, without the strange warmth that had lasted throughout the last week.  In the past three days, Emily’s life had (largely) returned to mundanity; she no longer needed to go on nighttime excursions, and she was actually managing to get some sleep.  For once.

They arrived at her study.  Emily entered to find not one, as she’d been expecting, but two people seated in front of her desk.  It was her first time seeing Talsin in something other than a modest brown dress (she had opted for black trousers and a white shirt, instead), and her first time seeing Sevrina Alsam looking anything close to healthy.

Both stood upon Emily’s entrance, bowing.  “Empress,” Sevrina greeted.  “I know you were expecting my visit, as I am the representative of the Tailors’ District in Dunwall.  I apologize for not mentioning that Talsin was going to be here.”

Emily waved a hand, smiling as she settled into the chair behind her desk.  “It’s no trouble, Councilwoman.”

“Please, just Sevrina will do.”  Sevrina smiled back.  “The inauguration is tomorrow.  There’s still time for me to be assassinated before I receive my title.”

Talsin winced.  “Please don’t joke about that.”

Sevrina glanced at her, looking chagrined.  “Sorry.”

“It’s not her fault,” Talsin burst out, then blushed.  “I... I wanted to talk to you.”

Emily blinked, then looked at Sevrina, who shrugged.  “My business is boring, and not urgent.  I’m sure I can give you and Talsin a few minutes to talk, so long as you’re amenable to it.”

“No,” Talsin said, reaching out and gripping Sevrina’s hand.  “Please, stay.  I’d like it if Lady Foster stayed as well.”

Emily glanced up at Billie, who shrugged.

Emily gave Talsin her full attention.  Talsin fidgeted for a few moments, rubbing the back of her left hand with her right (Emily noted that she was wearing a pair of mismatched gloves, and made a mental note to have a pair tailored for her).  

“How do you deal with it?” Talsin burst out with.  “I mean, I know you... wear gloves, to hide it, and that you’re careful about using your powers around the Abbey, and... stuff like that, but I just...”

She trailed off, looking wretched.

Emily suppressed a sigh.  “Talsin,” she said.  “I don’t know how much I can help you through this.  I... I welcomed the power, when I first got it.  It was exactly what I needed to get me through the situation I was in, and now that that’s over, I have consequences to deal with.  I don’t think I’m going to be done dealing with them.  But for you it must be... a little scary, I’m guessing.”

Talsin shook her head.  “When I use the power it’s... amazing.  Intoxicating.  Like a rush, and I know that I have power that I’ve never had before, and I can do all the things that I always wanted to do but couldn’t before.  I can protect my family and my friends, and I can make sure people don’t get hurt, but...”

Emily waited in silence.  But Billie spoke up.

“But your definition of good might not be the same one others have,” she finished.

Talsin nodded.

“I’ve already formed bonds with... everyone,” she said.  Emily blinked, then looked at Sevrina, who only winked.  “I want them to be able to keep themselves safe.  I’m going to take over the bone charm carving business, too, and I think I could eventually start taking people in who don’t have anywhere else to go.  But there could be that one person who goes to the Overseers, and then people will get hurt and it’ll be my fault.”

She twisted her hands in her lap.  “It’s a lot, that’s all,” she murmured.

Emily considered her response.  She thought that she was starting to see why the Outsider had marked Talsin, but she never could quite claim to know what the deity was thinking.  

“I can’t tell you how to use your power, Talsin,” she said.  “I think that what you want to do is admirable, but you’re right about how it could go wrong.  It’s up to you, not me.”

Talsin nodded, looking miserable.  “Yeah, I... I’ll just have to be careful.  I guess.  Mostly I just want to go back to the Void and yell ‘why me’ at the Outsider.”

Emily smirked.  “He could probably do with someone yelling at him.”

Talsin giggled at that, and Emily didn’t miss the grateful look that Sevrina threw her way.

Talsin’s giggles subsided quickly, and she looked serious again.  “Delilah was Marked, and she hurt a lot of people,” she said.  “You’re Marked, and you... you’ve killed people, haven’t you?  I mean, I know it was to stop Delilah, but still.”  She frowned.  “And I let Ysannifer kill Jin.  I... I don’t think I should have, but Ysannifer wouldn’t agree.  I’ll have to deal with that, too.”

“Ysannifer will listen to you,” Sevrina said, a dark look passing over her face.  

“I hope so.”  Talsin looked at Emily.  “She didn’t want me to come here, you know?  She’s never been a fan of royalty.”

“I gathered that.”

“Anyway.”  Talsin took a deep breath.  “I think...no.  I know that you can’t help me.  I’ll figure this out.  Thank you for letting me talk about this.”

“I’m supposed to listen to my subjects,” Emily pointed out.  “But you’re welcome, Talsin.  It’s not easy, having that kind of responsibility on your shoulders so soon.”

Talsin gave her a sheepish smile.  “Yeah, I guess you would know about that, huh?”

Emily called a couple of her guards to see Talsin and Sevrina out, catching Sevrina’s eye as she went through the door to Emily’s study.  Sevrina nodded at her, and Emily returned the nod, feeling something in her settle as she did so.

“Good luck to Talsin,” Billie murmured, once they had left.  “May she fare better than - others.”

Emily looked at her, noting that Billie was clutching her right elbow with her left hand, looking uncharacteristically fragile.  

“Let’s hope so,” she finally said.

* * *

 

The swearing in ceremony went off without a hitch, thankfully, though might have been because Captain Murrow had elected to prowl among those present, her intimidating presence enough to quell any of the nobles in attendance who might have caused a fuss.  High Overseer Lumis was present as well, watching with detached interest on his face as he watched each City Council member who stepped up.

His eyes lingered on Sevrina Alsam for no longer than any of the others.

The newly-instated Councilwoman Alsam was impeccably dressed, wearing a gray suit that (Emily guessed) had been borrowed from Ysannifer.  The only signs of Sevrina’s week of being Jin’s prisoner were her too-pale complexion and the drawn, hungry look on her face that had yet to disappear completely.  Apart from that, she gave a dazzling smile as she received polite applause from those in attendance; it made her look ten years younger.

Billie was never further than five feet from Emily’s side, and for a moment Emily was tempted to ask Billie to dance, but knew that the scandal that would cause among the elite would not be welcome after the success of the city council elections.  Instead, she approached her father, who had never quite broken his habit of lingering in the shadows during such social functions.

“Emily,” he greeted, smiling wearily.  “Today went well.  Better than expected.”

Emily smiled back.  “Let’s hope things stay that way.  It’ll be nice to have some quiet time, after everything that’s happened this week.”

“Careful,” he warned.  “You’re going to jinx it with that.”

“Sorry,” Emily replied, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.  “What I meant was, I can’t wait for our next disaster to befall us.”

Her father rolled his eyes, but he didn’t disagree.  Sometimes it made Emily want to tear her hair out, because she knew that she was always going to have to stay on her toes - but at the same time, she knew that being unwilling to do so would mean she was unworthy of the title of Empress.  She was finally starting to build something she was proud of, and she knew that she had to keep on building.

“How’s Meagan?” he asked her.

Emily glanced back.  Billie had moved further away in order to give them some privacy, but Emily knew she was wearing her bone charm that enhanced her hearing.  Billie met her eyes as she looked at her, then gave a small nod.

“I don’t know,” Emily admitted.  “I’ve been meaning to ask her about it.”  She shared another glance with Billie, narrowing her eyes when Billie’s flicked down to the ground.

“You said the Void hit her hard.”

“I think so,” Emily said.  “I don’t really know what happened.”

They lapsed into silence for a moment.  Emily was momentarily tempted to ask her father about whether he’d heard anything further about witches loyal to Delilah - she knew that he was keeping his ear to the ground, and there were sure to be more still out there - but she instead said, “Father, there’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Yes?”

She took a deep breath.  “I told you that I’d formed an Arcane Bond with Billie.  I know that you... I know that it was hard, to adjust to living without the Outsider’s Mark after Delilah took it from you.  I’m not completely sure how I managed it with Billie, but if you wanted some kind of connection to the Void back... I’m sure I could make it work.”

Her father shook his head almost immediately.  “I appreciate the offer, Emily.  But it wouldn’t be right to say that I’ve gone back to living the way I did before I was Marked.  But I had to adjust to having it - hiding it all the time, only using my abilities when I was sure no one was looking.  And now I’ve adjusted again.  Besides, we don’t want to give the Abbey more reason to suspect us.”

His eyes traveled over to where Lumis stood, speaking to Cynthia Boyle.  Emily followed his gaze, her unease building as she realized that her father held the same mistrust towards him that she did.

“Okay,” she said.  “As long as you’re sure.”

“I am.”  The corner of his mouth lifted.  “And now, Empress - considering this is still your party, don’t you have to mingle at least a little?”

Now it was Emily’s turn to roll her eyes, but she did as he asked, fixing her ‘Empress’ smile to her face and stepping forward to greet the nearest group of nobles.

* * *

 

Ordinarily, Emily wouldn’t have been opposed to sparring in the middle of the day - but considering that doing so usually attracted an audience from the Tower staff, she’d chosen instead to wait until late evening before asking Billie if she wanted to practice for a while.  Now, they were circling one another in the deserted courtyard, with one occasionally lunging forward, exchanging a flurry of blows, and then leaping back.

Emily was the one to go on the offensive this time, darting in towards Billie and side-stepping the swipe that Billie took at her.  She thrusted forward, but the blade of her folding sword was caught on Billie’s, and she quickly changed tactics, going low and trying to kick Billie’s feet out from under her.

Billie foresaw it and jumped over the kick, bringing her short sword down for an overhead strike.  Emily switched to a backhand grip and blocked it, but the air was knocked out of her lungs when Billie took the opportunity to put her boot in Emily’s chest.

Emily was knocked back several feet by the kick, automatically trying to compensate for lost air and choking when her lungs rebelled against it.  She was the one who had to block a thrust this time, aimed at her abdomen, and she jumped back to avoid a strike that might have taken her head off.

Billie pressed the advantage.  She had always been just a touch more ruthless than Emily - something that Emily learned shortly after she’d hired her - and that tendency never really faded.  Emily knew that it had more to do with the differences in their upbringing than how they’d been trained.  Her father had never gone easy on her, but Billie had been fighting to survive for most of her life.

Emily tried for a twist that worked to disarm most opponents, but Billie pushed through it with sheer stubbornness, and before Emily really had time to blink she found Billie’s sword at her throat.  She raised both hands in a gesture of surrender, and Billie stepped back.

“You’re off your game today, Empress,” she teased.

Emily tried to smile, but found herself unable to make her mouth obey.  Billie’s grin faded.

“You wanted us out here so that we could talk,” she said, more quietly.

Emily nodded.  “Things have been so busy that we haven’t really gotten the chance, but... what happened?  When you performed the ritual.  The Void, it... something was wrong.”

Billie let out a sigh, sheathing her sword at her hip and jerking her head towards the gazebo.  Emily sheathed her folding sword as well, following Billie over to where they could look out over Dunwall.  For once, the lights of the city were not obscured by fog.  It was a rare sight.

“I don’t really know how to explain it myself,” Billie began.  “When I was connected to... Daud... I felt the Void whenever I transversed, or used the Void Gaze, but it never really hit me like it did when I completed that ritual.  Outsider’s eyes, I even helped out with a few rituals back when I was involved with Delilah, and that shit never happened.”

Her voice shook slightly as she spoke.  Emily realized that Billie was truly afraid of... whatever it was.

“It was like a drug,” Billie continued.  “I kept pulling, and pulling, and I didn’t want to stop.  But you know, the weirdest part was that... I never felt like it was too much.  I never felt like my mind would be overwhelmed by it.  Somehow I - I knew that, even if I kept pulling, I would keep my sanity intact.  And that was what scared me into stopping.

“Ever since then, I’ve felt... strange.  Like everything around me is wrong.  Or maybe I’m the one that’s wrong.  I don’t know.”

Emily stared out over her city as Billie’s words registered with her.  The closest she had ever come to falling into the Void had been when she discovered the origin of the Outsider, and back then it had been the most terrifying thing she’d ever experienced.  She couldn’t imagine  _ wanting  _ more, the way Billie described.  

“I’m glad you were able to stop,” she said.  

“Me too.”

“If... if it happens again, or it gets worse, we’ll figure it out.  Okay?”

Billie exhaled, and Emily blanched when she reached up to touch the skin just below her right eye.  “Okay.”

They fell silent.  Emily could sense the other topic that was now weighing on both their minds, but she wasn’t sure if she should be the one to breach it.  She knew that the feelings were there, and she knew that Billie wanted the same thing she did, but with what Billie was struggling with right now she wasn’t sure if she’d want - 

“We haven’t talked about the other thing yet,” Billie said.  “I’d like us to.”

...well.  That answered that question.

“All right,” Emily replied.  “Where do you want to start?”

Billie gave her a look.  “Emily, when you first asked me if I would be your Royal Protector, you explained to me - or at least, you tried to explain to me - how you were feeling about the whole thing with me being one of the assassins who helped kill your mother.  That kind of conflict doesn’t disappear overnight.”

“It’s been more than one night.”

“ _ Emily _ .”

“Sorry.”  Emily looked down at her feet.  “Look, you - Billie, we  _ are  _ friends, right?  There’s no doubt between us about that.”

Billie’s eyes softened.  “No, there isn’t.”

“So I don’t want there to be any doubt about this, either.”  She let out a long breath, reaching forward and taking both of Billie’s hands in her own.  “Billie Lurk, I forgive you.  I should’ve told you sooner, and I’m sorry that I haven’t.”

It wasn’t often that Billie looked completely stunned - six months ago, when Emily still knew her as Meagan, she would’ve thought that was impossible - but she did now, her eyes wide with shock, and her mouth rounded into an ‘O’.  Her grip on Emily’s hands tightened, and for a moment Emily thought she saw her eyes shine with unshed tears.

“Void, Emily,” she muttered.  “You can’t just - “

“I just did.”

Billie swore again, then let out a laugh.  Emily joined in, not caring if both their laughs rang out over the Tower grounds.  She felt her pulse pick up speed as Billie leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together.  

“You think you’re so clever,” she murmured, her lips inches from Emily’s.  “With your flirting, but let’s be honest: you’re terrible at it.”

Emily raised an eyebrow.  “Evidently not, if it worked on you.”

Billie huffed out another laugh, her dark eyes fixed on Emily’s, and this time they moved at the same time, lips meeting in a manner that was decidedly more chaste when compared with the last time they’d kissed.  Emily took a moment to savor their closeness before she pulled away, still keeping their foreheads pressed together.

“So,” she said.  “Are we good?  Or did you want to talk some more?”

Billie’s way of answering was to kiss her again, and now there was nothing chaste about it.  Emily responded eagerly, sucking on Billie’s bottom lip and letting go of Billie’s hands so that she could drape her arms around her shoulders.  She felt Billie’s hands move to her waist, and broke away only for a moment before kissing her again.

“Maybe,” Billie said, breathless the next time they separated, “not in the middle of the grounds?”

Emily laughed, taking one of Billie’s hands and pressing a kiss to the back of it.  “Will you accompany me to my quarters, then, Lady Foster?”

“See?” Billie muttered, though Emily saw her shiver.  “Terrible.”

“Mm-hmm.”  Emily offered Billie her arm, which Billie didn’t hesitate to take.  As they headed back towards Dunwall Tower, Emily wasn’t - for once - thinking about what kinds of challenges she would be facing in the morning, or the disaster that would inevitably crop up next week, or the fact that the Outsider kept taunting her in her dreams.

For once, all she could think of was that she was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple of little notes and inspirations that I used:
> 
> 1\. Both Talsin's name and some aspects of her character are taken from Mother Talzin, the leader of the Nightsisters from Star Wars: The Clone Wars. Talsin and Talzin aren't at all alike in terms of personality, but they are both leaders of witches.
> 
> 2\. Ysannifer's inspiration doesn't come from a character outside of the fandom, but visually I pictured her as being very similar to Breanna Ashworth. However, Ysannifer's personality and backstory serve as more of a foil to Breanna than anything else; she doesn't believe in love, and she is very wary of putting all of her faith in one person. 
> 
> 3\. For the most part, all the loose ends in this story have been tied up. However, I left a few things open because I've had thoughts about a sequel. One that would be Billie-centric, and take into account a few of my theories about DOTO, though I can say that killing the Outsider would not be her goal in this fic.
> 
> 4\. I bounced around between having Emily forgive Billie and not, but ultimately that was what felt right for the scene. My Emily is very... I don't know if 'logical' is the right word, considering she does get herself into stupid situations a lot, but her experiences in Dishonored 2 (and even before that) have made her realize that holding onto the anger and rage only exhausts her in the end.
> 
> Again, thank you so much to everyone who supported this story! I had a fun time writing it.

**Author's Note:**

> Assassination attempts are always a good way to start off a story, right? Although at this point, let's be honest: Emily's probably used to them.


End file.
